#( but we can talk more hehehehe )

[bumblingbabooshka]

Ok. Get closer why don’t you.

[boopboops22]

I truly think this was the most painful line of the whole ep for me.

Like ohhh my god oh good grief

[chuluoyi]

✎ daddy-to-be

- gojo satoru x reader

in which you're worried about how he'd react to you carrying his baby

genre: fluff and comfort, mentions of pregnancy and dizzy spells

note: i feel soooo warm writing this *sigh* thank u anon who asked this!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

"Gojo-sensei! Must we do this?"

"For real?!"

"Okaka..."

"Yoohoo! Hehehehe~"

You sighed at the sight of your tall paintbrush of a husband. Satoru was supposedly teaching his first years—Maki, Panda and Inumaki—and yet, from where you were standing, it looked more like he was bullying them into following his whims more than anything.

A kind reminder that… this silly man is the father of your unborn child.

He didn't know that you were pregnant yet, because you had discovered it just a few days ago and chosen to keep it a secret for the time being.

In theory, this was normal. You two were married and engaged in a high level of sexual activity—something Satoru made sure of—and therefore, conceiving a child was bound to happen sooner or later.

Admittedly, accepting the fact that you were carrying his baby wasn't as easy as you thought, even knowing that. You hadn't seriously talked about having kids, and sure, your husband might have just taken a young cursed boy Yuta into his care—and way before that, Megumi, but it wasn't the same with your own child. It can't be the same.

And not to mention that you two were jujutsu sorcerers. Where would raising a baby fit in this bloody, cursed world you lived in?

...and above all, as things stand now, does Satoru even want a baby?

You released another sigh as you walked away, but then your vision tipped and you had to grab the wall for support. Right, you hadn't even been feeling well these past few days. You got queasy easily, and you experienced sporadic bouts of vertigo too.

"Sensei?" Yuta's worried voice greeted you, and you forced yourself to remain upright. "Are you okay?"

"Ah, yes, I'm fine," you assured him with a smile.

"Should I get Gojo-sensei? You seem pale..."

"No, no, that's—"

"Ooh~ Wifey!"

You cursed his impeccable timing as the striking white hair of your husband came to view. A mischievous grin adorned his face, a bundle of sunshine and trouble as always, as he wrapped an arm around you.

"Don't you have to teach the second years? My pretty wife, you can't be slacking—"

His smile abruptly fell when you subconsciously leaned on him and he noticed your shallow breaths. Satoru promptly tightened his grip on you.

"Yuta," his tone had taken a sharper turn. "Go to the training grounds and train with the others. Class ends after that."

As Yuta nodded and proceeded on his way, he immediately turned to face you. "What's wrong?" he asked with genuine concern. "Are you not feeling well? Can you walk?"

"I'm fine," you insisted, even though the edges of your vision started to blur.

Satoru pursed his lips, and you could tell even with his blindfold on, he was staring at you hard. "Don't be stubborn. Come on, let's get you home."

In an instant, he teleported you back to your shared home, his arms securely under your knees. You didn't know when the dizziness started to ramp up, but you were sure to fall if he didn't have a secure grip on you.

"How long have you been feeling unwell?" he inquired as he carefully lowered you onto your bed.

Realizing there was no point in hiding it any longer, you squeezed your eyes shut as your head rested on the soft pillow. "...since this morning."

Satoru expressed his dissatisfaction with a grunt. "In that case, you shouldn't have gone to school. From now on, you're on leave."

He fussed over you—removing your shoes, fine-tuning the air conditioner, and ensuring you were snug in bed. "What is causing you to feel this bad? Is it something you ate? We had dinner together, and I feel perfectly fine..."

You raised your gaze to him just as he tore off his blindfold, his eyes locking with yours. The blue of his eyes scrutinizing and assessing you, and suddenly, you felt insecure as he quirked an eyebrow, seemingly suspecting something. “Is there something you aren't telling me?”

This is it. You couldn't keep this from him any longer. This was his child as much as yours, he had to know for you to be able to decide on the next steps.

You exhaled. "I'm… pregnant."

Silence. For the next five seconds, you could've sworn that Satoru held his own breath.

"Pregnant?" he repeated, stunned, widened cerulean marbles blinking several times. "You...?"

You sat up, reaching for your nightstand and retrieving the five pregnancy tests you had stashed in the drawer, handing them to him.

Satoru fixed his gaze onto the two red lines on the sticks, examining them and then shifting his eyes between you and them several times. You didn't dare to look at him, feeling your hands starting to shake and your gut twisting.

But contrary to your dread, before you could blink, he pulled you into his embrace. Your heart melted as he softly murmured, "Dummy, why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I... I was worried. I didn't think I..."

He nuzzled into your neck, breathing in deeply. "Silly... I'm supposed to be your safe space. You can and absolutely should tell me these kind of things..."

A lingering fear persisted in your gut as you croaked out, "Are you... okay with it?"

Satoru snapped his head so quickly, his brow furrowed. "What do you mean—of course I am! Why wouldn't I be?"

You didn't know why, but his impromptu and steadfast declaration brought tears to your eyes.

"Stupid," he chided, his voice tinged with slight giddiness and overflowing fondness, and doubled with the wide grin on his face, you were starstruck. Holding your hand, he pressed a tender kiss on your knuckles, and then on the wedding band resting on your ring finger.

His sincere, warm eyes spoke volumes as he said, "You are my beautiful, lovely, and amazing wife. And now you're about to make me a daddy. Why wouldn't I be thrilled about that?"

You had given him love that saved him in countless ways, some of which you might not even realize. And now, you were about to gift him another piece of you to love—his own family to cherish. Satoru was convinced he couldn't love you more than he did in this moment.

You cried even harder, wiping your face sloppily as you pouted at him, voice clogged with tears, a mixture of relief and happiness overwhelming you. "Why are you so s-sweet? You're u-usually... such a menace..."

"Hey! That's slander! I'm always nice to you!" he protested with a mock frown, trying to lighten the mood.

Satoru brought you into his arms again, affectionately stroking your hair. His excitement was palpable as he chuckled gleefully at the very idea of becoming a father to a mini-him or you in a not-so-distant future.

With that sentiment in mind, he genuinely meant every word of what he softly uttered in your ear:

"I love you, sweetheart. And mark my words—with everything I have, I won't let anything happen to you or our baby… I swear it."

[astonmartinii]

day eight: is it new years yet? | franco colapinto social media au

pairing: franco colapinto x fem albon!reader

christmas day has come and gone and lovers have the agonising wait until new years to reunite (ie complaining a lot)

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

francocolapinto

liked by olliebearman, alexalbon and 828,056 others

tagged: yourusername

francocolapinto: will someone bring my wife back from the war

view all comments

user1: i need this kind of man in my life please

user2: i just know he's wearing that shirt completely unironically

user3: i need him to wear it in the paddock please

alexalbon: "the war" being her family's home for christmas

francocolapinto: well yes! why would she want to spend time with YOU when she could spend time with ME

alexalbon: she's not being held hostage she can leave if she wants to

francocolapinto: you're using the pets to your advantage

francocolapinto: DISGUSTING

alexalbon: excuse me?

francocolapinto: free her! and let her bring stan too!

alexalbon: you know what? it's christmas so i won't be entertaining this absolute nonsense

francocolapinto: my love for your sister is not nonsense alex, i am hurt by these accusations

alexalbon: FUCK OFF

user4: oh alex and franco bickering you are so personal to me

user5: i don't know how i'm going to deal with franco not being on the grid next year

yourusername: trust and believe sis, he'll in that paddock no matter what

user6: thank you for your service queen

alexalbon: if you must i guess

yourusername: missing you more baby

francocolapinto: actually not possible

yourusername: you could always come here ...

francocolapinto: and miss out on the sun on christmas?

francocolapinto: and have to hang out with alex ????

alexalbon: i am SICK of you pretending i'm not an absolute hoot

francocolapinto: i'll agree this one time and that's only because you share genetics with y/n so i must assume you must have some of her qualities

alexalbon: what the hell, sure

yourusername

liked by landonorris, francocolapinto and 341,984 others

tagged: alexalbon

yourusername: is it new years yet?

view all comments

user9: personally if i had that many cute pets i would not be complaining about going home for christmas

user10: real

albon_pets: that's exactly our points !!

francocolapinto: but not as cute as franco!

user11: did you forget to log into your burner account?

francocolapinto: no i just have a very secure view of myself

yourusername: therapists are AFRAID of him

user12: have we considered they do miss each other but are really on a covert mission to subliminally force us to listen to sabrina carpenter's ep fruitcake

yourusername: it is a banger i will say that

alexalbon: our family are NOT ANNOYING THIS IS A LIE

alexalbon: the song is good tho

landonorris: speaking of sabrina carpenter, do you wanna try out some freaky positions while you're back in england @yourusername ?

francocolapinto: i will tear you limb from limb and then drag you around silverstone attached to my williams like cans from a wedding car

user13: that's so romantic 🥰

landonorris: MURDER IS ROMANTIC?

francocolapinto: stop flirting with my girlfriend or i will invent a crime worse than murder

landonorris: it's a JOKE ????

francocolapinto: i am not laughing.

yourusername: he's so protective hehehehe

landonorris: so you're willing to let franco murder your friend of over TEN YEARS ?

yourusername: he can do no wrong in my eyes

landonorris: ALEX?

alexalbon: firstly, you bought this upon yourself. secondly, franco actually got me a really cool christmas present so he is above you on my friendship pyramid now

francocolapinto: no one can resist franco xx

user14: this comment section is a fucking mess

user15: and i wouldn't change it for the world

francocolapinto: counting down the days xxx

yourusername: i'm so excited i can't stop talking about it

albon_pets: this is true, she's even talking to the cats about it

alexalbon

liked by georgerussell63, landonorris and 409,302 others

tagged: lilymunhe & yourusername

alexalbon: despite popular belief, my sister does actually love me (or she at least loves the animals)

view all comments

user16: they're such a cute lil family

user17: and with the introduction of franco's face card they will be unstoppable

georgerussell63: with the absolutely blasphemous speculation in these comment sections i would like to lodge a formal complaint concerning the fact that i have never been invited to an albon christmas

francocolapinto: not cute enough

georgerussell63: i can go toe to toe with you franco

yourusername: lying is a sin george

georgerussell63: what happened to the y/n i once knew ...

yourusername: listen george if you want the invite you gotta marry in to the family, and since both alex and i are taken it looks like your best bet is one of the cats

georgerussell63: that would be beastiality

yourusername: not my problem

alexalbon: please don't fuck one of my cats george

georgerussell63: SHUT UP !!! i merely wanted some recognition for my importance to the albon family but alas you are all IDIOTS. DID OUR HOMOEROTIC SHARED THROAT INFECTION MEAN NOTHING ALEX

alexalbon: i don't really know what you want me to say here?

user18: george has been off his rocker since qatar i fear

yourusername: it's been much longer than that lol

francocolapinto: she'll never love you more than she loves me

alexalbon: considering you two are in a romantic relationship i would hope so

yourusername: oh girlies we should get this all out now before franco gets here and before we camp out in the williams garage all season

alexalbon: i must ask do you have to be there all season?

yourusername: we're scheming

francocolapinto: james can't resist my puppy dog eyes for that long

yourusername: count your days @carlossainz55

carlossainz55: excuse me ??

francocolapinto: you heard her !!!

carlossainz55: @alexalbon is it going to be like this all season?

yourusername: not if we have anything to do with it

carlossainz55: so just for a few races

francocolapinto: no dipshit we're going to steal your seat

user19: i love when a couple really come together to maxmise their joint slay

francocolapinto

liked by yourusername, olliebearman and 823,019 others

francocolapinto: i hate the time warp between christmas and new years so much what do you mean i actually want to be playing trivial pursuit with alex :(

view all comments

user21: why does he have a bunny?

user22: it's best not to ask questions about franco really

user23: i want to know but also i think for my sanity it's best i don't

alexalbon: everyone goes on about the 'franco charm' but really it's all about the alex charisma

francocolapinto: whatever, you can have this one, but know you'll never truly be me

alexalbon: was the half compliment in the caption the yearly compliment for 2024

francocolapinto: yeah so savour it

alexalbon: you're so kind franco

francocolapinto: i know 🫶

alexalbon: i was being sarcastic

francocolapinto: compliment is a compliment

user24: franco is the type to be called pretty dumb and just hear pretty

user25: he wouldn't be wrong

yourusername: i've been holding down the fort while i can but this dumbass has clearly done some reading in his spare time

francocolapinto: no one is as smart as you amor i have no worries

user26: is this game of trivial pursuit lasting days?

landonorris: there is no way you're the trivial pursuit champion ???

yourusername: i've won for the last five years running, why wouldn't i be?

francocolapinto: choose your words carefully lando... i'll be on british soil before you know it

landonorris: why is it just me you're going after the whole twitch gc agree

charles_leclerc: not sure what you're on about here lando

georgerussell63: i've always been impressed by y/n's trivial pursuit skills

alexalbon: i love her so much i let her win

francocolapinto: @landnorris consider this a warning

landonorris: how did i end up with the threats again?

user27: franco does not play omg

yourusername: he's the biggest loverboy eva

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, alexalbon and 603,029 others

tagged: francocolapinto & alexalbon

yourusername: reunited and it feels so good !

view all comments

user28: i have never felt jealousy like this

user29: hey siri play that should be me by justin bieber

user30: you're telling me i gotta live and people like y/n get to have an f1 driver brother AND franco colapinto as her new years kiss ???

francocolapinto: longest ten days of my LIFE

yourusername: you can't get rid of me now

francocolapinto: good! i need my fix of y/n :3

francocolapinto: i'm addicted to you

yourusername: you're addicted? they're tryna make me go to rehab

francocolapinto: but i said

yourusername: no

francocolapinto: no !

user31: are these motherfuckers quoting amy winehouse ???

alexalbon: worse, they're actually singing it to each other right now

user32: WHAT? show it to me rachel....

georgerussell63: wait he came to england ????

francocolapinto: yes! you're no longer the hottest f1 driver in the country - i'm so sorry!

georgerussell63: @alexalbon please tell me this little menace is not crashing your festivities?

alexalbon: well technically ... franco is family so he's got more of a right to an invite than you ...

francocolapinto: snooze you lose georgie boy

georgerussell63: you need better taste y/n

yourusername: wanna say that again

alexalbon: oh george ...

georgerussell63: you need better taste y/n

landonorris: oop.

yourusername: I DON'T CARE IF IT'S MEANT TO BE NEW YEAR NEW ME, IF YOU'RE NOT CAREFUL THERE WILL BE NO 2025 FOR YOU RUSSELL

francocolapinto: that's so fucking hot

yourusername: i love you <3

francocolapinto: i love you more

kimiantonelli: do i have a teammate for next year or?

fin.

note: amazing news!!! the vets found that my cat was too healthy to be put down so he lives to slay another day. hope you enjoy this celebratory franco fic, my first for him i think? (can you tell i need to update my masterlist?)

[polarnoid-a]

⭐ all the combos let's goooo

MULTIMUSE MEME: Send a " ⭐ " and I will list muses I would be interested in throwing at yours, or potential muse combinations if you are also a multi.

okay i get the feeling its gonna get long and im taking in the ones in your active tag but if you also want to expand on this and or other combos lmk...also not putting down anything we have talked about already...also kinda cheating and adding the guys from scoops hehhee also also there are some combos i might be interested in but like i wanna wait until i know more about the characters so ill dm you about those specifically...also edit i forgor giselle was here so... adding that to the mix

julie & villanelle

baby murderer meets grown up assassin, there is like these differences between them that would make an interaction kinda funny??? there's a lot julie could learn and idk it would be a good thing to explore...maybe the difference on why they kill and how they see killing like idk idk that's interesting to me...julie used to be the popular girl, she kinda is still....something we can cook there

fiona & martha

so fiona is a girl from the 16th century dropped into the modern world to reunite with her husband...perchance she could be a time anomaly, something funny there. martha has time traveled, has endured things for the sake of guy and has had that whoops what did i get myself into moment...which i think is one funny because it paralelles what fiona goes through but also like idk something IS HERE...friends....fwiendship....

patrick & aimee

oh well i could give him a st verse and like ...heheh hoo hoo bad boy alert, but there's this myths and shit that are so untrue about him. so like that could definitely be funny to explore, also he is a pretty guy and can be emotionally open and understanding !! hell we could even recreate the movie plot with st in the background jkhrkjhg there is SOMETHING HERE OK?

patrick & adam

oh damn two guys ...two dudes with a bad reputation and while adam is more angry than sad patrick is kinda more like stoic and sad than angry,, idk neither of them like opening up so maybe they can hangout and not talk about their feelings at all until they grow emotionally and idk be a safe space for each other but like in the cool guy way

richie & dustin

ummm mike's annoying queer cousin....he is like a funny lil kid, i think there isnt necesarilly a funny lil kid his type of brand in the party, he also is a geek (not a nerd) so putting them into situations would be fun, also lil kid who has also dealt with weird ass happenings in one's town so he would be extra annoying i think ! funny banter here...also them bickering at each other is a guarantee ! fun !

alice & el

alice's st verse has her as an experiment, so hehehe hooo sister's vibes. she is also very much different from the people el usually surrounds herself with, she is very much a weird girl, and her powers have developed way past the default here...also bonding over their share trauma,,, she also has a scientist dude who basically killed her family and alice wants him dead...so like hehehe fun stuff there

aimee & luna

listen aimee is part of the pack, luna is in the pact, she isn't as clueless as aimee can be but i feel like they both can be girls, girls, so i think a friendship is definitely in order ! also another dog friend who doesn't want that ???

clem & luna

wow the way luna would absolutely take in clementine in as a younger sister, i think even though kane tries i feel luna and clem would connect a bit better over the whole turned into a wolf thing, especially because i think luna also got turned by necesity like clem did, also clem has this edge that kane also ocassionaly has but luna actually lacks...luna might learn a thing or two from clem

anamaria & muireann

mermaid and pirate, maybe ann gets attached to anamaria, and now anamaria has a whole ass mermaid to deal with...a whole ass feral mermaid, but maybe muireann has her back...can help anamaria kick ass hehehe

joe & giselle

wow ?? repeat customer at her tavern...an annoying lil guy who can bicker with her? he is also sorta friends with dave, since they kinda go back. a fun way for giselle to find out about dave's past like the parts he doesn't disclose necessarily...but also maybe a fling,,, he's a fun guy to be around most of the times,,, i think kghkjsdhfjsf

ophelia & giselle

wow two of the most important women in dave's life, would be fun to compare and contrast....they both ran away from what was home and family to them. so that's hehehe hooo ?? ophelia is also a lil weirdo sometimes. and i think she definitely needs feminine energies in her life especially someone that has a strong personality like giselle, teach her your ways ... perchance?

rosa & morgana

hehe hoo hoo witches magic users on opposite sides of the good evil spectrum? interesting very interesting. we could do like a modern thing for them or maybe even make it high fantasy...maybe friends turned rivals turned enemies, they would be at odds on the topic of use of dark magic...and if they were friends at some point wouldn't that be a lil sad :((

@immobiliter

[landoughnut]

Mine All Mine

♡ masterlist - request

♡ pairing - oscar piastri x fem!reader (fc - hailee steinfeld)

♡ summary - (request :) oscar obsessing over his girlfriend on the internet!

♡ warnings - horny/simp oscar, crack, some fluff, some cursing, use of y/n

♡ w/c & a/n - smau | thank you so so much for requesting!! i hope you enjoy lovely xx

oscarpiastri HEYYYY LOVEEEE

yourusername HIIIIII SWEETHEART

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yourusername cant wait to see you black out drunk tonight 🫡

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alex_albon ...

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landonorris can confirm ✅

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charles_leclerc red for ferrari?

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landonorris can confirm ✅

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oscarpiastri easiest win of my life

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oscarpiastri i see you little french boy.

oscarpiastri if i see another comment or like from you ill hit you with my car so fast you'll go flying back to your little chocolate factory.

mclaren for legal reasons this IS a joke 😅

yourusername TIMOTHÉE IM SO SORRY DONT MIND HIM IM A BIG FAN OF YOU 🫶

tchalamet 😅 i'm scared to say thank you

oscarpiastri good 🙃

username LMAOAOOAOOAOAAO TIMMYS TRAUMATIZED

oscarpiastri ugh guys she's just JDNBGEBGW

oscarpiastri you guys dont even get it

oscarpiastri i wake up and see her and just 🥲 thank the lord

username AWHHHHHHHHH

alex_albon i didn't know he could be so sweet

yourusername IM GOING TO CRY ILYSM.

oscarpiastri and i love you more ���

username i'm only following oscar for the y/n content

oscarpiastri thats so valid.

zendaya same.

[halovians]

pspspsp,,, do you perhaps have a spare boothill thought or two ,, sfw or nsfw,,,

i most certainly do have a few spare boothill thoughts! mostly nsfw ( ¬‿¬) walk with me nonnie… heheheh this got a wee bit too out of hand and i dropped WAY more than a few thoughts (and i am also tipsy, so i apologize in advance if something doesn't make sense) regardless, i hope u rlly like this :3

cw. assorted boothill x f!reader thoughts, manhandling, biting, improper use of a lasso (bondage!), mentions of overstim, lack of stamina is a foreign concept to boothill, talk of cyborg dick and artificial cum, creampies. not proofread in the slightest if there are typos no there's not

𓆩♡𓆪 the thing about boothill is how unafraid he is of manhandling you. while he's aware that humans are much more fragile than he, he knows your limits like the back of his hand and he knows what you can handle. you can take him like a big girl, can't you?

𓆩♡𓆪 he'll fold you in half, put you in all sorts of positions, toss you over his shoulder and pat your plush ass with a smug laugh. if you decide you want to ride him and get all tuckered out, thighs burning, the moment you're whining and babbling for his help he's already on it. big hands envelop your waist as he moves you to his whims.

𓆩♡𓆪 boothill likes to see you pleasure-drunk, entirely fucked out by the time he's done with you. he can go for as long as you need, baby; you just have to say the word. he can eat you out for hours, fuck you for double that, and still have enough energy to take care of you afterwards.

𓆩♡𓆪 cyborg sex has the potential to really get freaky tbh... he's definitely had chats with you about different 'attachments...' whatever you're into. he's definitely figured out which size makes you cum the most, and will indulge your every whim—especially when you shyly ask him "baby... can we go bigger?" (if he still had a human body, his dick would be rock fucking hard right now.) he's definitely looked into vibrating attachments. great heavens.

𓆩♡𓆪 SPEAKING OF attachments he's looked into: boothill has definitely found a way to creampie you. the tipping point for him deep diving into this was when you were just whinin' so pretty for him, begging for more, and you had let it slip that you wished so bad for him to be able to cum into you. lo and behold, he finds a solution and he surprises you by cumming deep in your aching cunt one night. the two of you definitely make a mess of your bedsheets by the end of the day (and you probably had the most earth-shattering orgasms you've ever had in your life).

𓆩♡𓆪 the day you finally asked him what his teeth would feel like, boothill's grinning like a maniac. he won't bite so hard that it hurts too much, but he knows how much you like the power he holds over you. sharp teeth sink into flesh, followed by a hot tongue that laves over the mark adoringly.

𓆩♡𓆪 another day he indulged you... there was one time he noticed you eyeing the lasso that hangs at his hips. he smiles wolfishly at you and asks, "like what you see, darlin'?" he's surprised when you shyly nod your head and look up at him with sweet doe eyes and asks if maybe... he'd consider using it in the bedroom?

𓆩♡𓆪 and oh, he did. he considered it maybe a little too hard (he jerked himself off far too many times that day). when the time came for him to use it on you, he was fiending. he ties your wrists to the bedposts and just goes to town, treating your cute body like a pretty little cum dump. he's definitely a big fan. especially when you can't run away from all the pleasure he wants to give you <3

𓆩♡𓆪 he doesn't look it, but i think he provides good aftercare. he knows how fragile the human body is firsthand: that's why he's a cyborg now. he'll take care of you. without fail, every time he's done with you, you're practically a puddle, exhausted and jelly-boned, and boothill is scooping you up into his metal arms. and yet despite the cool metal pressing against your flesh, you feel warm. maybe it's just the love pouring out of his every action, the way he treats your body with absolute reverence and adoration as he cleans you up and gets you ready for some rest.

please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!

[amyzworldds]

hii !! it's my birthday right now (april 12) and i'm carving some angst rn heheheh i was thinking about YN birthday, instead of them hanging out together, celebrating her birthday. they forgot her birthday but YN thought they were pranking her and planning to make a surprise birthday party for her, they ACTUALLY forgot her birthday. she waited for a week for them to say a happy birthday to her (she was willing to accept belated happy birthday from them) but none of them did, and became colder to her. YN got sulky and angry so she drank and drank until she became drunk, and got home on 10 pm, which is past their curfew. she got caught and got scolded by seungcheol, who was waiting at the front door looking angry. well, she was drunk and was not on her right mind, unconsciously said some things she's been keeping to her self.

Title: Forgotten Birthday

Masterlist

When Y/N, wakes up excited for her 25th birthday, she anticipates the usual chaos and love from her bandmates. But as the days unfold with packed schedules and unexpected silence, she grapples with emotions that test their decade-long bond, leading to a heartfelt journey of connection and understanding. Pairing: Seventeen x 14th reader Genre: Fluff, Angst

Y/N woke up bright and early, the crisp April air filling her with a familiar buzz of excitement. Today was special—April 12, her birthday. She stretched happily as she stepped out of her room in the dorm, a wide grin plastered on her face. Birthdays were always a big deal for her, and being part of Seventeen made them even more unforgettable. She glanced around, expecting the usual chaos of the boys bombarding her with "Happy Birthday!" the moment she appeared, like they always did at the start of April to tease her. But today? Nothing. Just a few sleepy glances from the members sprawled across the living room.

Hoshi was slouched on the couch, rubbing his eyes. Mingyu was half-asleep over a bowl of cereal, and Seungcheol gave her a lazy nod before scrolling through his phone. Y/N smirked knowingly. Oh, they’re playing it cool again, huh? she thought. The boys were notorious for their birthday pranks, and she was certain they were up to something.

“Morning, guys!” she chirped, bouncing into the kitchen.

“Mmm,” Jeonghan mumbled, sipping his coffee. “Morning, Y/N.”

That was it? No cheeky grin, no nudge-nudge-wink-wink? Y/N’s smirk widened. Nice try, boys. She grabbed a glass of juice, humming to herself as she leaned against the counter, watching them drag themselves around like zombies. They’d had a brutal schedule last night—a fan event that ran way past midnight—and it showed. Dark circles, messy hair, and barely any words exchanged. Still, Y/N wasn’t buying the act. They were definitely planning something.

In the van to their next schedule, Y/N couldn’t contain her excitement. “So,” she started, leaning forward, “April’s a pretty big month, right? Lots of… plans?” She wiggled her eyebrows, glancing at Dino, who was squished next to her.

He yawned. “Uh, yeah, I guess. Concerts, comebacks… the usual.”

“Anything else?” she pressed, her tone playful.

Woozi, eyes closed and head against the window, muttered, “Y/N, can we talk about this later? I’m dying here.”

“Yeah, some of us need sleep,” Vernon added, pulling his hoodie over his face.

Y/N leaned back, crossing her arms with a smug grin. Oh, they’re good. She could picture it already—the moment they’d “surprise” her, probably bursting into the practice room with a cake or ambushing her at the dorm later. Last year, they’d ignored her all day only to barge into her room at midnight with a massive cake, balloons, and a pile of gifts, laughing as she pretended to be shocked. The year before that, they’d pulled an even wilder stunt, acting mad at her for “being late” to a meeting (which was fake), only for her to end up teary-eyed before they revealed the prank with confetti and hugs. This year, she was ready for whatever they had up their sleeves.

The day was a whirlwind—back-to-back rehearsals, a radio show, and a photoshoot that left everyone wiped out. Every time Y/N dropped a hint about April or birthdays, the boys brushed it off. “We know, Y/N,” Seungkwan said at one point, sounding exasperated. “But can we just… rest for five minutes?”

“Okay, okay,” she replied, her smirk never fading. They’re so obvious. By evening, as they piled back into the van, Y/N was practically vibrating with anticipation. Any minute now, they’d pull the big reveal. She could feel it

--------------------------------------------------------------

The first week of April flew by in a blur of schedules, and now, with only four days left until her 25th birthday on April 12, Y/N was practically glowing. She’d stopped dropping hints or teasing the boys about it—she didn’t want to ruin their carefully crafted “surprise.” But that didn’t stop her from grinning ear to ear, shooting knowing glances at her bandmates whenever they caught her eye. They’re probably finalizing the big plan right now, she thought, barely containing her excitement. Seventeen’s pranks were legendary, and her 25th birthday felt like it was going to be their grandest scheme yet.

Their days were packed to the brim—dance practices, interviews, and late-night recordings that left everyone drained. Y/N was just as exhausted as the boys, her muscles aching and eyes heavy, but the thought of her upcoming birthday kept her buzzing. She’d catch herself humming in the van or bouncing her leg during breaks, unable to shake the anticipation.

In the dorm one morning, Y/N plopped onto the couch next to Mingyu, who was scrolling through his phone, looking half-dead. “Morning, Gyu oppa! Big day ahead, huh?” she said, her grin wide and teasing.

He barely glanced up. “If by ‘big’ you mean exhausting, then yeah. I’m already tired.”

“Oh, come on, you’ve got that spark in you somewhere!” Y/N nudged him, her eyes glinting. He’s totally playing it cool.

Across the room, Seungcheol was shoving toast in his mouth while checking their schedule. “Y/N, save the energy. We’ve got back-to-back shoots today.”

“I’m ready, leader-nim!” she chirped, leaning back with a smirk. “April’s got me in a great mood.”

Jeonghan, lounging on a beanbag with a face mask on, cracked one eye open. “You’re way too cheerful for 7 am What’s with you?”

“Nothing, nothing,” she sang, winking at him. “Just… feeling good about this month.” Oh, you’re not fooling me, Yoon Jeonghan.

In the van to their first schedule, Y/N sat squished between Dino and Woozi, her grin still plastered on. “So, guys, four days until… you know, a really cool date in April. Any thoughts?” she asked, barely hiding her glee.

Dino yawned, his head lolling onto her shoulder. “Four days until I hopefully get some sleep. That’s my thought.”

Woozi didn’t even open his eyes, earbuds in. “Y/N, please. I’m begging you. Let me nap.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll be quiet,” she said, holding up her hands but still smiling. Nap all you want, Jihoon. I know you’re scheming.

At the dance studio later, the group was drenched in sweat, running through their choreography for the nth time. Y/N spun past Hoshi, who was barking instructions like a drill sergeant. “Y/N, sharper on that turn!” he called.

“Got it, boss!” she replied, flashing him a grin. “Gotta look good for… you know, special occasions.”

He raised an eyebrow, wiping his forehead. “Special occasions? Like not collapsing after this set?”

“Sure, something like that!” she laughed, twirling away. Keep pretending, Soonyoung.

During a quick water break, Seungkwan plopped down next to her, fanning himself. “Why are you so smiley today? It’s freaking me out.”

“Can’t a girl just be happy?” Y/N shot back, nudging him. “April’s my favorite month, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it,” he muttered, gulping water. “But you’re, like, extra happy. It’s suspicious.”

“Suspicious? Me?” She gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. “I’m just living my best life, Kwannie.”

Vernon, overhearing, snorted from a few feet away. “Living your best life while we’re all dying? Respect.”

“Thank you, Hansol,” she said, bowing with a flourish. “I take my job as the group’s sunshine very seriously.”

By the time they wrapped their last schedule—a late-night radio show—Y/N’s energy was finally starting to wane. She slumped into the van, her head resting against the window. Still, her lips curved into a small smile as she thought about her birthday. Four more days, and they’ll pull out all the stops. Cakes, balloons, maybe even a goofy handmade card from DK.

Joshua, sitting beside her, noticed her expression. “You’re still smiling? After today’s chaos?”

“Always,” she murmured, eyes half-closed. “Got a lot to look forward to, Shua oppa.”

“You’re unstoppable,” he said with a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Just don’t burn out before we do.”

“No promises,” she teased, her voice fading as she drifted into a light doze, her mind still buzzing with visions of the birthday surprise she was sure was coming.

--------------------------------------------------------------

The morning of April 12 arrived, and Y/N woke with a flutter in her chest. Her 25th birthday. A milestone. The dorm was eerily silent, not a single sound stirring the air—no clatter of pans, no muffled laughter, no whispered plotting behind closed doors. She sat up in bed, her lips curving into a hopeful smile. Okay, maybe later, she thought, brushing off the quiet. They’re probably saving it for after today’s schedule. Seventeen loved their dramatic reveals, and Y/N was certain they’d outdo themselves this time. She could already picture the chaos—cake smeared on her face, balloons everywhere, Mingyu tripping over a gift box in his excitement.

She bounded out of her room, her energy dialed to eleven despite the packed day ahead. In the living room, a few of the boys were slumped on the couch, scrolling through their phones or sipping coffee, their faces drawn with exhaustion. Y/N didn’t let it faze her. She was practically vibrating, her grin wide as she leaned over the back of the couch where Hoshi and Seungkwan sat.

“Morning, guys! Feeling good today?” she teased, wiggling her eyebrows. “Like, really good?”

Hoshi barely looked up, his voice flat. “It’s just another day, Y/N. Chill.”

Her smile faltered for a split second, but she rallied, laughing it off. “Oh, come on, it’s a great day! Perfect for, you know, big moments!”

Seungkwan sighed, rubbing his temples. “Can you not be so loud? We’re all beat from yesterday.”

Y/N’s heart gave a tiny lurch, but she kept her grin plastered on, leaning closer. Classic prank mode. “Okay, okay, I’ll keep it low-key. But you guys are hyped for today, right?”

Across the room, Woozi shot her a glance, his expression blank. “Hyped? Y/N, we’ve got a million things to do. Can you just… focus?”

The words stung, sharper than she expected, but she swallowed the hurt, her smile unwavering. They’re just tired. It’s fine. They’re setting me up. She bounced into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water, humming to herself to drown out the unease creeping in. It’s my 25th birthday. They wouldn’t forget.

The day’s schedule was relentless—rehearsals, a live stream, and a fan sign event that stretched into the evening. Y/N stayed her bubbly self, teasing the boys between takes, dropping playful hints about “special days” and “reasons to celebrate.” But each time, she was met with shrugs, eye rolls, or curt replies.

During a break at the studio, she sidled up to Dino, who was stretching nearby. “Hey, Chan, bet you’re planning something fun for later, huh?” she said, nudging him with a grin.

He frowned, wiping sweat off his brow. “Planning? Y/N, I’m just trying to survive this choreography. Give it a rest.”

Her laugh came out a little too loud, a little too forced. “Right, right, survive first, party later. Got it!”

But as the day wore on, the silence around her birthday grew heavier, like a weight pressing on her chest. No sneaky glances between the boys, no hushed giggles, no poorly hidden gift bags. Just exhaustion and indifference. By the time they dragged themselves back to the dorm late that night, Y/N’s hope was fraying, but she clung to it like a lifeline. Maybe now. Maybe they’re waiting to surprise me.

In the living room, she flopped onto the couch, still buzzing with forced energy. “Wow, what a day, huh? Perfect way to cap off… you know, something special?” she said, looking around at the boys, her voice bright but brittle.

Mingyu, kicking off his shoes, didn’t even glance her way. “Y/N, can you stop with the vague hints? It’s annoying.”

Her breath caught, the words slicing deeper than they should’ve. She opened her mouth to laugh it off, but Jeonghan cut in, his tone sharp as he headed for his room. “Seriously, we’re all tired. Not everything’s about you.”

The room fell silent, the air thick with tension. Y/N’s smile froze, her heart plummeting. She looked to Seungcheol, hoping for a softening glance, a hint that this was all part of the act, but he just shook his head, muttering, “Let’s just get some sleep,” before walking away.

One by one, the boys disappeared to their rooms, the sound of closing doors echoing in her ears. She sat there, alone in the dimly lit living room, her hands trembling in her lap. The silence was deafening now, no balloons, no cake, no laughter to break it. Just her, and the sinking realization that maybe, just maybe, they’d forgotten.

Her chest ached, hot tears pricking at her eyes, but she forced them back, her lips twitching into a shaky smile. No, it’s fine. It’s part of the plan. They’re messing with me. She thought of last year’s midnight surprise, of the year before when they’d turned her tears into laughter with a single confetti pop. They wouldn’t forget. Not my 25th.

She stood, her legs heavy, and shuffled to her room. Closing the door, she leaned against it, her smile faltering as the hurt clawed its way up her throat. Maybe tomorrow, she told herself, her voice barely a whisper. Maybe they’re planning something big, and this is just… the buildup. She climbed into bed, curling up under the covers, her heart bruised but stubborn. Y/N believed—no, she had to believe—it was all part of their plan.

--------------------------------------------------------------

April 13 dawned with a gray sky, the air heavy with the promise of another chaotic day. Y/N woke with a flicker of hope still burning in her chest, though it was weaker now, fragile like a candle in a storm. Maybe today, she thought, brushing her hair back and forcing a smile in the mirror. Maybe they’re waiting for the perfect moment. Yesterday’s silence had stung, but she’d convinced herself it was still part of Seventeen’s elaborate prank. They were masters at dragging out the suspense—she’d seen it before. Surely, her 25th birthday, a decade with these boys, wasn’t something they’d just… forget.

The dorm was a whirlwind of activity as the members rushed to get ready for another packed schedule—filming, interviews, and a late-night rehearsal. Y/N moved through the chaos, her smile bright but brittle, watching for any sign, any flicker of mischief in their eyes. She didn’t mention her birthday, didn’t dare disrupt whatever plan they might be hiding. She teased them lightly, keeping her tone playful, waiting for the moment they’d crack and the surprise would spill out.

“Big day today, huh, Cheollie oppa?” she said, leaning against the kitchen counter as Seungcheol stuffed a protein bar in his mouth.

“Big? That’s one way to put it,” he muttered, barely looking up from his phone. “We’re gonna be dead by tonight.”

Her smile wavered, but she pressed on, turning to Joshua, who was tying his shoes nearby. “Bet you’re excited for something today, right, Shua oppa?”

He shrugged, distracted. “Excited to maybe grab a coffee later, if we get a break. You good?”

“Never better!” she chirped, her voice a touch too high. They’re just tired. It’s fine. She clung to that thought as they piled into the van, her eyes scanning each member for a telltale smirk or a poorly hidden grin. But there was nothing—just exhaustion etched into their faces, their heads leaning against windows or buried in their phones.

The day was a blur of motion, one schedule bleeding into the next. Y/N threw herself into every task, laughing with fans during the signing event, nailing her choreography in rehearsal, all while keeping one ear open for a whispered “happy birthday” or a sudden burst of confetti. But the hours ticked by, and the silence grew louder, heavier, until it felt like a weight pressing on her ribs. No balloons. No cake. No knowing glances. Just another day to the boys, while to her, it was everything.

By the time they stumbled back to the dorm well past midnight, Y/N’s hope was fraying at the edges. Three days had passed since her birthday—three days of waiting, of smiling through the ache, of telling herself they wouldn’t forget. She lingered in the living room as the boys shuffled in, her heart still clinging to the idea of a late surprise. Maybe they’d been too busy yesterday, too swamped to pull it off. Maybe now, in the quiet of the dorm, they’d finally reveal the prank.

“Long day, huh?” she said softly, perched on the arm of the couch, looking at Vernon as he tossed his jacket onto a chair.

“Brutal,” he groaned, rubbing his neck. “I’m crashing. Night, Y/N.”

Her throat tightened. “Night,” she managed, her smile slipping as he disappeared down the hall. One by one, the others followed—muttered goodnights, tired waves, and the sound of doors clicking shut. No one paused, no one lingered, no one gave her that spark of recognition she’d been waiting for.

Alone in the living room, the silence was suffocating. Y/N’s mind raced, her thoughts spiraling. Do they actually forget? The idea felt impossible, unthinkable. They’d been together for a decade—thirteen boys who knew her better than anyone, who’d celebrated every milestone with her, who’d turned her birthdays into memories she’d cherish forever. She could understand one or two of them slipping up, maybe distracted by the chaos of their lives. But all thirteen? Acting like her 25th birthday was just another day? The hurt bloomed sharp and raw, slicing through the hope she’d held onto so tightly.

She wandered to her room, her steps slow, her chest heavy. Closing the door, she sank onto her bed, the silence wrapping around her like a cold embrace. Her smile finally crumbled, and hot tears spilled down her cheeks, quiet at first, then shuddering sobs she muffled into her pillow. How could they forget? she thought, her heart twisting. We’re a family. They’re my brothers. They wouldn’t just… forget. The memories of past birthdays—cakes smashed in her face, DK’s off-key serenades, Seungkwan’s dramatic gift reveals—felt like cruel ghosts now, taunting her with what this year lacked.

She curled up, wiping her eyes, her breath hitching. Maybe they’re still planning something. Maybe it’s bigger than I think. Even now, three days late, she couldn’t let go of the belief that they’d come through. They had to. They were Seventeen, her thirteen pillars, her home. She clung to that thought, fragile as it was, and whispered to herself in the dark, “They will not forget.” But the tears kept falling, and the doubt crept deeper, leaving her to wonder if this time, they really had.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Five days had passed since Y/N’s 25th birthday, and the silence from the boys was deafening. Not a single “happy birthday,” not a glance of guilt, not even a question about why she’d gone quiet. Y/N’s heart sank deeper with each day, the hurt festering into something raw and unbearable. She was sure now—they’d forgotten. Completely. The thirteen boys she called family, who she’d poured her soul into for a decade, had let her milestone birthday slip by like it was nothing.

It felt so unfair. Every year, Y/N was the first to greet each member on their birthday, no matter how grueling their schedule. She’d stay up late crafting heartfelt letters, scraping together her allowance for thoughtful gifts, planning surprises that made them laugh or tear up. For Seungkwan’s last birthday, she’d barely slept, decorating the dorm at 4 a.m. For Dino’s, she’d written a letter so long it took her hours, her hand cramping. But her birthday? Nothing. Not one of them had noticed her forced smiles, her quiet stares, her heart breaking in the spaces between their indifference.

The day ended like all the others—chaotic, exhausting, and empty of any acknowledgment. Back at the dorm, the boys trudged to their rooms without a word, doors slamming shut like nails in a coffin. Y/N stood in the living room, alone, her chest tight with resentment. Fine, she thought, her jaw clenching. If they don’t care, I’ll celebrate myself. It was five days late, but she wasn’t going to let her 25th birthday pass without something, even if it meant doing it alone.

She stormed to her room, ripping open her closet. Her fingers landed on a tight, shimmering party dress—bold, defiant, perfect. I’m going out, she decided, slipping it on, her reflection in the mirror fierce despite the ache in her eyes. They had no schedules tomorrow, so why not? She’d drown the hurt in music and alcohol, let the club’s chaos swallow her pain. No one would stop her—not that they’d even notice she was gone.

At the club, the bass pounded through her bones, and Y/N threw herself into it. The bartender, who’d seen her and the boys there before, recognized her instantly and kept the drinks coming—cocktails, shots, anything she wanted. She drank heavily, the burn of liquor dulling the sharpness in her chest. She danced, swaying under the flashing lights, losing herself in the crowd. For a while, it worked. She felt alive, untouchable, the hurt buried under layers of alcohol and rhythm.

But the drinks piled up, and soon her head was pounding, her vision blurring. She stumbled on the dance floor, giggling at nothing, her movements sloppy. The bartender watched with growing concern—she was far gone, her words slurring, her eyes unfocused. They tried talking to her, but she just laughed, waving them off. She’s too drunk, they thought, glancing at her phone on the counter. They didn’t know the dorm’s address, so they scrolled through her contacts, landing on Seungcheol’s name. He’s the leader, right?

--------------------------------------------------------------

Seungcheol was deep in sleep, the kind that felt like sinking into a void after weeks of exhaustion. His phone buzzed relentlessly, dragging him awake. He squinted at the screen—3 a.m., Y/N’s name flashing. Annoyance flared immediately. What the hell does she want now? He answered, ready to snap, but the voice wasn’t hers. It was a bartender, shouting over blaring music and chatter.

“Hey, this is the club on 5th. Y/N’s here, and she’s wasted—like, can’t even talk straight wasted. Keeps dancing, but we’re worried. Someone might recognize her, and she’s alone. Can you come get her?”

Seungcheol’s groan was guttural, his temper spiking. “Yeah, fine. I’m coming.” He ended the call, fury bubbling up. Why the hell would Y/N pull this now? Doesn’t she know we’re all barely functioning? He yanked on a hoodie, his mind racing with irritation. She was out causing a scene, risking their reputation, when they were all drowning in fatigue.

He stormed into Joshua’s room, flicking on the light. “Get up. Y/N’s drunk at some club, and we gotta go get her.”

Joshua blinked, confused but already moving. “What? Why’s she out there alone?”

“No idea, but I’m pissed,” Seungcheol snapped, then barged into Jeonghan’s room. “Jeonghan, up. Y/N’s causing trouble. Club. Now.”

Jeonghan groaned, rolling out of bed with a scowl. “Are you kidding me? What’s her deal?”

The three of them piled into a car, the drive tense and silent, each stewing in their own annoyance. At the club, the music hit them like a wall, the crowd a blur of bodies. They spotted Y/N instantly—swaying wildly on the dance floor, her tight dress catching every light, her face flushed and eyes glassy. She was a mess, and the sight only fueled their frustration.

Seungcheol pushed through the crowd, dropping his jacket over her shoulders. “Y/N, let’s go. Now.”

She laughed, shoving him away, her voice slurred. “Nooo, I’m having fun! Leave me alone!”

Joshua tried next, his tone gentle but firm. “Come on, Y/N, it’s late. You’re drunk. Let’s get you home.”

She swatted at him, stumbling. “I don’t need you! I’m fine!”

Jeonghan’s patience, usually endless, was fraying. He stepped closer, his jaw tight. “Y/N, stop it. You’re making a scene. Let’s go.”

She pushed him too, her movements clumsy but defiant. “You don’t get to tell me what to do!”

Seungcheol’s temper snapped. He scooped her up in one motion, ignoring her protests, her fists weakly hitting his back. “Enough. We’re leaving.” Jeonghan and Joshua flanked him, draping their jackets over her to shield her from prying eyes, their faces set in grim irritation. She was wearing that damn dress, and they weren’t about to let anyone snap a photo that could haunt them later.

Back at the dorm, they dropped her onto the couch, her body slumping as she mumbled incoherently. The noise had woken the others, and soon the living room was crowded with sleepy, annoyed faces—Jun rubbing his eyes, Mingyu frowning, Wonwoo looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. Seungcheol stood over her, hands on his hips, his voice sharp.

“What the hell were you thinking, Y/N? Going out alone, getting trashed like that? What if someone recognized you? You know how much trouble that could’ve caused?”

Jeonghan crossed his arms, his usual calm replaced by a scowl. “We’re exhausted, Y/N. We don’t have time to babysit you when you pull stunts like this.”

Joshua, softer but still firm, chimed in. “You could’ve gotten hurt. Why didn’t you just stay here?”

The others piled on, their voices overlapping, each one laced with frustration. “Do you know how hard we’re working right now?” Mingyu snapped. “And you go make things worse?”

“What even got into you?” Seungkwan added, shaking his head. “We’d all have to clean up your mess if this got out.”

Y/N stirred, her head lolling as she let out a bitter, drunken chuckle. She pushed herself up, swaying, her eyes blazing through the haze of alcohol. She pointed a shaky finger at them, tears streaming down her face as her voice cracked with raw hurt.

“You… you… all of you!” she slurred, her gaze sweeping the room. “You forgot my 25th birthday! Five days ago! Not one of you said a word! Not one of you asked why I’m quiet, why I’m like this!” She stumbled, catching herself on the couch, her sobs breaking free. “I’m always there for you! Every birthday, every single one, I’m up at midnight, writing letters, getting gifts, making you feel special! Even when I’m dead tired! But you… you thirteen… you just forgot me!”

Her voice rose, trembling with pain. “A decade together, and you didn’t even notice! You just cared about sleep, about schedules, about everything but me!” She collapsed back onto the couch, her body giving out, tears pouring as she mumbled, “My 25th… and you didn’t care…” Her words faded into soft, broken sobs, her head dropping as she passed out, tears still glistening on her cheeks.

The room froze, the air thick with a silence that crushed them all. Seungcheol’s anger drained away, replaced by a sickening realization. Joshua’s eyes widened, his hand covering his mouth. Jeonghan stared at the floor, his jaw tight. One by one, they pieced it together—April 12, six days ago. Y/N’s birthday. The day they’d been too tired to notice, too buried in their own exhaustion to remember.

Minghao whispered, “Oh no… we forgot.”

Mingyu ran a hand through his hair, his voice small. “How did we… all of us?”

Woozi’s face was pale, his usual stoicism gone. “She loves birthdays. She always makes ours huge. And we…”

Seungcheol exhaled sharply, guilt settling like lead in his chest. They’d fucked up—badly. They knew how much Y/N poured into their birthdays, how she lit up at celebrations, how she made every moment count. And they’d let hers pass without a single thought.

Jeonghan moved first, kneeling beside her, gently brushing her hair back. “We need to get her to bed,” he said quietly, his voice heavy. Seungcheol nodded, lifting her carefully, her body limp in his arms. They carried her to her room, tucking her in as her tears dried on her face, her breathing uneven even in sleep.

Back in the living room, the silence lingered, each member lost in their own guilt. “How do we fix this?” Joshua asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“We can’t undo it,” Woozi said, his tone flat but pained. “But we have to do something. She deserves that much.”

They sat there, thirteen brothers who’d failed their sister, knowing they’d broken something precious—and unsure if they could ever make it right.

--------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, Y/N woke to a pounding headache and a heart that felt like it had been trampled. Her room was dim, the curtains still drawn, and the events of last night crashed over her like a wave. She remembered everything—her drunken outburst, the tears, the way she’d pointed at each of them, spilling her hurt. And their faces. Not concern, not guilt, but irritation, exhaustion, annoyance. The memory burned, twisting the knife deeper. She lay there, her makeup smudged and streaked, still in the tight party dress that now felt like a costume for a night she wished she could erase.

She dragged herself to the mirror, wincing at her reflection—mascara tracks down her cheeks, lipstick smeared, hair a tangled mess. Pathetic, she thought, her throat tightening. A shower was the only thing that made sense. She stood under the hot water, letting it wash away the makeup, the sweat, the lingering scent of alcohol, but it couldn’t touch the ache in her chest. She felt hollow, betrayed by the thirteen people she’d trusted most. They hadn’t cared about her last night—not really. All they’d worried about was the group’s reputation, the headlines that could’ve followed if someone had recognized her. “What if someone saw you?” Seungcheol’s voice echoed in her mind. “We’re tired, Y/N.” Not once had they asked if she was okay.

Back in her room, she pulled on an oversized hoodie and sweatpants, her stomach growling but her pride too bruised to face the kitchen. She was hungry, but the thought of seeing them, of pretending everything was fine, made her sick. She curled up on her bed, staring at the wall, the hurt festering into anger. A decade together, she thought, tears stinging her eyes. I’ve given them everything—every birthday, every late night, every moment I had. And they couldn’t even remember mine. The unfairness of it choked her, and she buried her face in her pillow, willing herself not to cry again. But the tears came anyway, silent and bitter.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, the dorm was stirring with a different kind of energy. Jun, Minghao, and Wonwoo were the first awake, gathered in the kitchen, their voices low as they replayed last night. Y/N’s words hung heavy in the air, each one a dagger they couldn’t dodge. “You forgot my 25th birthday… not one of you asked why I’m quiet…” The guilt was suffocating, and the sight of her closed door down the hall felt like a silent accusation.

“How did we let this happen?” Jun asked, his voice quiet, his hands fidgeting with a coffee mug. “All thirteen of us. Not one of us remembered.”

Minghao sighed, leaning against the counter, his usual calm frayed. “She’s always the one who makes our birthdays special. The letters, the gifts… and we couldn’t even give her a damn ‘happy birthday.’”

Wonwoo stared at the floor, his jaw tight. “She was crying last night. Drunk, sure, but those weren’t just drunk tears. We hurt her. Badly.”

The others trickled in, each face etched with the same shame. Seungcheol rubbed his eyes, looking like he hadn’t slept. Jeonghan sat at the table, unusually silent. Even Hoshi, always the spark of energy, was subdued, his shoulders slumped. They all glanced at Y/N’s door, the weight of their failure settling deeper.

“We can’t undo it,” Seungcheol said finally, his voice rough. “Her birthday’s gone. But we have to do something. We owe her that.”

Minghao nodded, grabbing his jacket. “Jun and I will get a cake. Something she’d love—chocolate, with those little sprinkles she always picks off and eats last.”

“I’ll handle food,” Mingyu said, already pulling out his phone to order her favorites—fried chicken, tteokbokki, that spicy ramen she could never resist. “We’ll cook, too. Make it a spread.”

“Gifts,” Joshua added, glancing around. “We’ll each get her something. Doesn’t have to be big, just… personal. Something that shows we know her.”

They split up, a quiet determination driving them. They knew it wouldn’t erase the hurt, wouldn’t change the fact that they’d fucked up in a way that cut deep. But they had to try. Y/N wasn’t just a member—she was their sister, their heart, and they’d let her down.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Hours later, the dorm was transformed. The living room was filled with the smell of food, a chocolate cake with sprinkles sitting proudly on the table, balloons tied to the chairs despite the late celebration. Gifts were piled in a corner—small boxes, handwritten notes, things they’d scrambled to find that screamed Y/N. A playlist of her favorite songs played softly, curated by Woozi, who’d spent an hour agonizing over the order.

But Y/N’s door stayed closed. The boys exchanged glances, the silence heavy. Finally, Seungcheol approached, knocking gently. “Y/N? Can you come out? We… we need to talk.”

No response. He knocked again, his voice softer. “Please, Y/N. Just… give us a chance.”

Inside, Y/N sat up, her heart pounding. She wanted to stay hidden, to nurse her anger, but something in his tone—raw, almost broken—pulled at her. She wiped her eyes, steeling herself, and opened the door. The sight hit her like a punch: the boys standing in a loose circle, the cake, the food, the gifts. Her breath caught, but she crossed her arms, her face guarded.

“What’s this?” she asked, her voice flat, though it wavered at the edges.

Seungcheol stepped forward, his eyes searching hers. “We fucked up, Y/N. We forgot your birthday—your 25th. There’s no excuse for that.”

Jeonghan joined him, his usual smirk gone, replaced by raw sincerity. “You’ve always been there for us, every single time. Your letters, your gifts, the way you make us feel like we’re the only ones who matter. And we… we let you down.”

Her lips trembled, but she held her ground, the hurt still raw. “Five days,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Six now. Not one of you noticed. Not one of you asked why I was quiet, why I was… breaking.”

Mingyu’s voice broke as he spoke, his eyes glassy. “We were so caught up in ourselves, in being tired, that we didn’t see you. And last night… we weren’t worried about you, not like we should’ve been. We were assholes, Y/N. I’m so sorry.”

The tears she’d fought all day spilled over, hot and unstoppable. “I tried so hard to believe you didn’t forget,” she choked out, her voice shaking. “I kept smiling, waiting for the surprise, telling myself you were planning something. But you didn’t. You just… forgot. After ten years, how could you all forget?”

Hoshi stepped closer, his own eyes red. “We don’t deserve your forgiveness, not after this. But you’re our family, Y/N. We love you. We were stupid, blind, but we love you.”

She sobbed, her knees buckling, and Joshua caught her, pulling her into a hug. “We’ll spend every day making this up to you,” he murmured, his voice thick. “We promise.”

One by one, they joined, surrounding her in a group embrace, their apologies overlapping—Seungkwan’s shaky “I should’ve known”, Dino’s quiet “You deserve better”, Woozi’s hoarse “I’ll never let this happen again”. Y/N cried into their arms, the hurt pouring out, but their warmth, their voices, started to stitch something back together. It wasn’t fixed—not yet—but it was a start.

They pulled back, guiding her to the table. Minghao lit the candles on the cake, his smile soft. “It’s late, but… happy birthday, Y/N.”

She stared at the flickering flames, her heart a mess of pain and tentative hope. She blew them out, her wish simple: Let us heal. The boys cheered, but it was gentle, their eyes still heavy with guilt. They ate, laughed, handed her gifts—a bracelet from Vernon, a journal from Wonwoo, a goofy plushie from DK that made her smile through tears. Each note, each gesture, was a step toward reconciliation, a promise to never let her feel invisible again.

As the night wound down, Y/N looked at them, her family, and felt the first flicker of forgiveness. It would take time, but they were hers, and she was theirs. And that, at least, was worth fighting for.

--------------------------------------------------------------

an: Hi Anon, sorry this is late, but belated happy birthday to you! I hope you'll have a great year!🎂🎉🫶🏻

[i-cant-sing]

Yandere Batfam x reader who cant feel pain

HEhehehe i just remembered a disease and I just had to write about a reader with it x yandere batfam.

Have you guys heard of CIPA? Its "Congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis" which is basically a genetic condition when a patient cant feel pain to any noxious stimulus and can also not sweat, and yall are probably like "but SNoWWW, that doesnt like a diSEase. More like a superpower!!!" um no. You need to be able to feel pain or else you wont know what part of your body has been injured and get help before its too late. You could have thumbtack plunged in your foot and u wouldnt know unless it got infected and u probably saw ur foot changing color.

And now yall are like "but SNoWw, the anhidrosis part, where u cant sweat, sounds nice! who would to look like a sweaty pig in this age????" NO! Sweating is a necessary physiologic phenomenon because it lets your body cool down as it releases heat. If you dont sweat, you'd overheat and DIE!

Okay now that we've covered the basic info, lets get into it:

So, Batfam finds out about reader when she's just running into danger with little to no care for self preservation, and they dismiss it as you being just another dumb teen wanting to be hero and "change the world". Time passes by and Bruce is impressed by your passion and decides to take you under his wing.

It isnt until months later that Bruce discovers something odd about your behaviour. You were standing in the kitchen with the rest of the batkids, laughing and having a good time when he saw Dick had pulled out a hot pan of cookies from the oven and placed it on the aisle. The pan slipped, and without thinking, you had grabbed the hot pan with your bare hands very calmly and placed it back on the aisle, without so much as a hiss of pain or even a sweat.

And now that he thinks about it, Bruce has never seen you sweat. Not during training, not during summer, not even when after you ran laps around the mansion.

With a quick search on the Internet, he finds out about the disease and of course its Dick who he confides in first about his suspicions. Soon, the rest of the batfam has heard the rumours and now they're all watching you keenly to see if its true.

But Jason is the one who tests out the theory quickly by spilling some hot tea on your hand when you were busy talking to Tim about the importance of sleep. The room goes dead silent as they watch your hand turn red, yet you fail to react. It took you a few seconds to realise that they're all looking at you, and when you follow their gaze, it takes you a few seconds to react.

Or fake a reaction.

You shriek, pulling your reddening hand as you run to the sink and run it under cold water, your mind trying to come up with an excuse. But you know its too late when Bruce's hand comes to clasp your shoulder, pulling you away from the sink as his eyes examine your injured hand and... you.

"Bruce I-"

"I know, Y/n." He gives you assuring nod, carefully bandaging your hand as you sat in his office. "You have CIPA, hm?"

You looked down. Why bother lying? He's Batman, he'll find out anyways.

Bruce lifted your head and smiled gently at you. "Its okay. I'm not disappointed in you. I just... you could've told me." You shook your head. "If I did, you would've treated me differently... like a freak."

He sighed. "You are different, but I would've never treated you like a freak. You're not a freak. If anything, between us, I'm more of a freak than you." He was talking about being a hero, but you giggled at the thought of him referring to being a rich dude who cosplays in spandex.

Bruce cupped your cheek and smiled. "I promise, no one will treat you like a freak. But we will have to take some precautions for your safety."

-

He lied. You've never felt more like a freak than you do now.

Every single day would start off with Dick waking you up and sticking a thermometer in your mouth because he needs to make sure that you're not overheating, even though Bruce has set a thermostat in your room that he controls and he's programmed it to turn your room temperature change by the hour.

Then Dick would start checking you all over for any bruises or injuries, even a scratch, that you may have caused yourself in your sleep. Originally, Damian was the one who had a whole checklist as he examined your body, but that all ended the moment you smacked him when he asked you to lift your shirt. Dick would just have you go and check yourself in the bathroom and trust you when you said you're all good. Also, you're much nicer to Dick than you are to the rest of the brothers (its his puppy dog eyes and that sweet voice that compels you to do as he asks. He's just too nice.)

Dick would then lead you to down for breakfast with the family, where Alfred already has your glucometer out because of course, they must check your blood sugar level every day, lest they find out you're diabetic or something. Only then would you be served your meal, which is a highly nutritous, perfeclty seasoned, balanced dish because they want to make sure you dont have any vitamin deficiencies (because how would they know???? you dont feel pain). But you cant eat just yet. No no, whichever brother is closer, most often Jason, will first taste your food to make sure its not too hot to consume (because you dont realise you've burned the roof of your mouth that one time when Tim ate a slice of pizza that was fresh out of the oven and huppahhuffpuhh the morsel out). Jason would then give you the go to eat and you finally do. You make sure to finish the whole plate (because otherwise Bruce will make note of it and then interrogate you "medically" why you didnt feel like eating all of it?)

After breakfast, while the rest of the batkids get to go to school and work, you dont (because Bruce thinks that your immune system could be weak and he cant risk you catching any diseases from the outside.) No, you get a special trip to the infirmary where Bruce and Alfred do a more thorough medical check up, taking your vitals, JOTTING IT DOWN, while Alfred hooks you up to an IV drip of vitamins. And even though they go to such extents to ensure that you're healthy, they still take you to a skilled doctor once a week for regular check ups. Bruce wanted to keep the doctor in the house to do daily check ups, but you talked him out of it that you dont want to feel like a lab rat who has her blood taken every day. Once a week is fine, Bruce.

Once the medical check up is done, Bruce would then take you with him, either to Wayne enterprises where you sit in his office as he imparts you "business education that no school can teach you." which you believe because... well he has managed to triple the Wayne wealth even after his parents death. If he's working from home, then he'll let you accompany him in his home office where you can either read a book he chose for you (because Bruce prefers to homseschool you himself) or do a puzzle/case he created specifically for you. If he's working in the batcave, then he'll let you tag along but you can only work here by brainstorming or doing some computer research, but in no way are you allowed to ever go on field and fight. No, not since your last incident.

Just 2 months ago, you were patrolling with Jason (because Bruce refused to let you go alone now. He just wont risk it) and you encountered some bad guys who were a little more well equipped than you two had expected. A fight broke out, and in the process you got hurt badly. Of course, you didnt realise it because you didnt feel any of the punches or the bone fracturing. Jason could only look at you in dread as you smashed your head against the villain's head until the guy passed out, all while your nose bled, you were covered in bruises from top to bottom, AND you had a bone sticking out of your arm.

"Jay? I think I'm hurt?" You asked as blood coated your teeth.

After that, Bruce forbid you from going out on the field altogether because you just dont know when to stop. If it werent for bones sticking out or blood dripping down your face, you wouldnt know that you've been injured.

Anyways, at lunch, almost everyone has returned from work/school and you get yet another balanced meal (temperature tested by another brother). You're now scheduled for some exercises, usually conducted by Damian (under Dick's supervision because otherwise, you'd just be smacking that devil's spawn.) You guys use the gym in the basement, where Damian makes you run on the treadmill for some time, during which he does not take his eyes off you once because he needs to know when he should stop you, especially since you dont sweat or are even huff. If he didnt keep time, you could probably run for a long time and not realise that your legs or lungs are begging you to stop and take a break. As you hop off the machine, he's immediately taking your temperature. He does it after every exercise he makes you do.

After that is done, you spend time with Tim who likes to have you try on little gadgets that should "help you feel pain", but so far, he hasnt had any luck (but he doesn seem to be doing good in disguising trackers in your daily wear things). Oh and Damian loves to join in because he gets to sneak up on you and prick you with needles to help Tim see if your sensory pathways work. They dont, but you dont need your pain receptors to detect Damian coming up behind you as you smack him when he tries to prick you.

Then dinner is served, and then you're ushered straight to bed where Dick, or more often- Bruce has you do a self check like the one Dick does in the morning, but Bruce also makes sure to check your eyes to see if you "accidentally scratched your cornea" or whatever, tucks you in, tells you that he's so proud of you for how youre handling this and that you can come to him anytime, for anything. He kisses your forehead, wishes you goodnight, and leaves.

Half an hour later, Jason sneaks into your room with the goodies- junk food and video games. You two have the strongest bond because Jason is the one who treats you the most normal, and Jason does it partly to piss off Bruce but partly because he cares about your mental health. He knows it cant be good for you to be cooped up in the mansion under supervision like a bird in a gilded cage.

So sometimes, he sneaks you out of the mansion and takes you out on late night rides on his bike. You can even watch him fight villains, but you're sat far away and can never interferre.

Unfortunately for you two, this sneaking out will have to end because Bruce had recently decided to set up some cameras in your room because he wanted to make sure you slept well without any abnormal breathing patterns. Bruce hopes he doesnt have to use restraints on you, because he's not blind. He knows you're uncomfortable with this intricate routine and knowing your impulsive self, you'd probably break your own bones to get out of these restraints. And then he'll be forced to use sedatives and he really doesnt wanna rely on drugs... he likes your company when you're not droopy.

And as Bruce had anticipated, you broke down. You finally tried to leave, and he could see the color draining your face as you realised that there is no leaving.

"Why isnt the door opening?" You asked Bruce, as his four sons slowly surrounded you.

"You dont have to run away, Y/n-" He tried to calm you down but you flinched away, eyes wide as you looked at him like he was going to harm you.

"Bruce, why isnt the fucking door opening?" Your voice trembled, shooting him teary glare before focusing your eyes back on the boys who were closing in on you.

"You're meant to stay here, inside, where its safe." He answered, heart aching at the alarmed stance you took, your fight-or-flight was going to kick in. He took another step towards you, hands raised in surrender. "We can keep you safe-" thats all it took for you to bolt as the boys began chasing you. Realistically, you knew you couldnt escape them but something about their intensely concerned calls for your name had you jumping out of the window.

Glass shattered and sharp shards embedded themselves in your skin and feet, but you didnt react to them. No, your brain wasnt screaming in pain, it was screaming for you to get out!

Adrenaline pumped you to run into the dark woods surrounding the mansion, but you were soon knocked to the ground by Dick, who cushioned your fall by placing you on top of him as his hands wrapped around your form like a cage. "Y/n, calm down and listen-"

You began thrashing in his arms, screaming in agony. "Let ME GO! YOU'RE HURTING ME-!" Dick's arms loosened instinctively and you took that as a chance to elbow him in the throat and run, thanking some deity for letting Dick forget that you cant feel pain.

But your relief is short lived as Damian catches you and pushes you to the ground harshly. "Damian! Be careful! She could break a bone-"

"Bones can heal, Drake." Damian barked back, pulling you up before he pushed you against tree. "Let me go, you maniac-" Damian's hand clamped around your throat, making you shut up. "You're the one who's a maniac. Look at you! You've fucking hurt yourself because if your astounding stupidity!"

You whimpered, clawing at his hand wrapped around your throat. "Dami- p-please let go- you're hurting me!" You cried out, but your eyes went wide as he squeezed your throat and bared his teeth at you. "Not falling for it, dumbass." So... fooling Damian wasnt as easy a feat as it was fooling Dick.

You stopped the act and looked at him dead serious. "Let me go, Damian, or-"

"Or what?"

Or what? Or what? Did he think you were out of options? Out of escape plans?

You dont know why, but that triggered something inside you.

Damian and Tim could only watch as you suddenly slammed the back of your head against the tree. "Y/n-" He gasped in horror as you leaned your head forward before slamming it back against the hard rough surface. This time, Damian's hand that was wrapped around your neck felt your blood around his fingers.

"Its my life and I get to decide how I should live it." You sneered before raising your head again to bash it, but Damian's hand quickly slipped from your neck to the back of your head, cushioning it when you smacked it back, the skin on the back of his hand breaking as it made contact with the bark.

You pushed him away and tried to make a run for it, but Tim grabbed your wrist. You tried to pull away, but he had a death grip on it. "Y/n, stop! You need to listen-"

"Oh is that so? I think I need this." You used your other hand to punch yourself in the face (because Tim would've dodged it if you punched him), making your nose bleed. But you didnt feel any pain, and now you were acting like a super soldier zombie that has no concept of self preservation who is going through fucked up lengths to prove her point.

Your eyes caught the sight of a glass shard poking out of your thigh. "Wanna see something cool?" You pulled out the shard, not paying mind to the blood oozing out. "Y/n, stop-" Tim begged, and you saw Damian froze in the back as you raised the shard.

They didnt know what your next target was- slashing your wrists, slitting your throat, or stabbing your stomach, but fortunately, they didnt have to find out as Jason came up behind you and injected you with a tranquilliser.

Sadly, you never felt the prick or sensed the hero sneaking up behind you.

thoughts? also, what other diseases would u guys like me to write for. i just adore these cool medical abnormalities lol

[joelsrose]

Tangled in Paradise: Chapter 3

my masterlist ~ previous chapters

warnings: oral f!recieving heheheh dirty talk joel is a dirty sexy bastard?! also sorry if its toooo longgg

The next morning, you woke to an empty bed, the sheets beside you cool and undisturbed. You rolled over, squinting at your phone. 10 a.m. “Shit,” you muttered, groaning as you stretched your arms overhead.

The sound of the door opening made you sit up, the grogginess quickly melting away. Joel walked in, his hands full—one holding a drink carrier, the other a bottle of water.

He looked maddeningly good for so early in the morning. His skin was sun-kissed, his hair just slightly messy like he’d already been out and about, and that damn t-shirt, snug across his broad shoulders, did nothing to help your situation.

“Hey,” he said, flashing you that easy, devastatingly handsome smile. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice still raspy from sleep as you rubbed your eyes. “Sorry for sleeping in.”

“Don’t apologize,” Joel said, shaking his head as he crossed the room. “We’re on vacation. You’re allowed to sleep in.”

Before you could respond, Joel sat down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. He reached over, setting a cup on your nightstand with a soft clink.

“Iced vanilla latte,” he said, his voice warm but casual, as if this wasn’t the sweetest gesture in the world. “And water. Figured you’d need it.”

Your heart stuttered, the ache from earlier dissolving into a wave of warmth that spread through your chest. “Joel,” you murmured, reaching for the latte. The condensation cooled your fingers as you held it, and you glanced up at him. “That’s sweet—you didn’t have to.”

He shrugged, his lips twitching into a lopsided grin that made your stomach flip. “Ain’t nothin’,” he said, but the way his gaze stayed on yours—steady, almost searching—betrayed the weight behind his words. “Anyway, Maria and Tommy left for a hike… like five hours ago. Apparently, they’re tryin’ to be one of those couples.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “God, they’re ambitious.”

“Or insane,” Joel added with a smirk, leaning back farther until his weight shifted onto one arm. His eyes flicked over you, a soft intensity in them that sent a small thrill down your spine. “So, I guess it’s just you and me for a while.”

Joel’s lips curved into that slow, wicked smile, the one that always made your pulse skip. He reached out, his fingers brushing over your knee lightly before retreating just as quickly.

You arched a brow, holding his gaze as you sipped your drink again. “What’d you have in mind?”

"Well," he drawled, his tone casual but his eyes glinting with something warmer, "we could sit by the pool. You could read me one of those romance novels you’re always pretending not to like," he added, nodding toward the book resting on your side table.

Your jaw dropped in mock offense, and he laughed, leaning back as if he’d scored a point.

“Joel Miller, I do not pretend.”

“Oh, you definitely do,” he teased, his voice rich and smooth. “Let me guess—billionaire bad boy falls for the sweet, innocent girl? Sound familiar?”

You smirked, shaking your head. “Wow, somebody’s projecting.”

“Hardly,” he shot back, his grin widening. “I’m more of a ‘charming Texan sweeps her off her feet’ kinda guy.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you set your drink down. “You’re insufferable.” You bit your lip, trying not to smile too wide.

“Fine,” you relented, brushing a hand through your hair. “Pool it is. But I’m not reading to you.”

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

You bit your lip, turning toward the full-length mirror in the corner of the room. The bikini was flattering—more than flattering, really—but no matter how you adjusted the straps or smoothed the fabric over your hips, that familiar knot of self-consciousness tightened in your chest.

A soft knock at the door jolted you out of your thoughts. “Hey,” Joel’s voice came through. “Can I come in, or is this a no-roommate zone right now?”

“Uh… yeah, come in,” you called, your hands automatically tugging at the fabric one last time.

The door opened, and Joel stepped inside. He froze, just for a second, his eyes dragging up your body in a slow, deliberate sweep. His lips parted slightly, and for a moment, the cocky charm he usually carried seemed to falter. “Shit.”

“What?” you asked, your cheeks immediately heating under the intensity of his gaze. “What’s wrong?”

Joel blinked, his mouth twitching into that lopsided grin that somehow managed to be both infuriating and heart-stopping.

“Nothin’. You’re just—” He gestured vaguely with one hand, his words trailing off as his gaze dipped again, lingering on the curve of your waist. His voice dropped lower, rougher. “You’re gonna give the lifeguard a fuckin’ heart attack walkin’ around like that.”

You let out a huff of laughter, though your cheeks burned under the intensity of his gaze. It wasn’t just his words; it was the way he looked at you—like he was savoring every second of it. “Joel, stop,” you murmured, trying for exasperation, but your voice betrayed you, sounding far too soft.

He didn’t budge, didn’t even blink. If anything, his grin deepened, a slow, lazy curve that made heat curl in your stomach. His eyes shamelessly roamed over you, trailing from the slope of your shoulders to the length of your legs, before snapping back to your face. “Not my fault,” he drawled with a casual shrug, though his voice was thick. “You show up lookin’ like that, you can’t expect me not to notice.”

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, shifting awkwardly under his gaze. Turning your back to him, you pretended to adjust something on the nightstand, hoping the movement would distract from how flustered you felt.

“Hey,” Joel said softly, his voice closer now. A warm hand landed on your shoulder, his fingers brushing against your bare skin as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, then swept it away from the back of your neck. His touch was unhurried, intimate in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

“What?” you murmured, your voice catching as your heart pounded in your chest.

“Don’t gotta hide from me,” he said, his tone low, the kind of voice that could coax secrets from you without even trying.

“I’m not hiding,” you mumbled, though the way you kept your gaze averted didn’t exactly help your case.

Joel’s smirk deepened, his hand lingering on your shoulder just a moment longer before he let it slide down your arm, his fingers brushing yours. “No? Could’ve fooled me,” he said, his voice soft but teasing.

You turned to face him, finally meeting his eyes, which were dark and full of something you couldn’t quite name. “I’m not,” you insisted, a little firmer this time, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed you.

“Alright,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “If you say so.”

Your breath hitched at the way his eyes locked on yours, dark and amused, like he was daring you to argue. Before you could muster a retort, Joel turned away, striding over to where his tote bag rested on the dresser.

“C’mon,” he called over his shoulder, the smirk still audible in his voice as he rifled through the bag. “Let’s go cause some medical emergencies.”

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

You found a quiet spot by the pool where the loungers were spaced far enough apart that it felt private, secluded.

The soft sound of the water lapping against the edge of the pool blended with the faint hum of conversation from a few sunbathers nearby. You sank back into the lounger with a sigh, adjusting your sunglasses and stretching your legs out in front of you.

“Nuh-uh,” Joel said, his voice cutting through the tranquil moment.

“What?” you asked, peeking up at him over the rim of your sunglasses.

"Did you know," he began, his tone light and teasing as he flipped the sunscreen bottle in his hand, scanning the label, "that not wearing sunscreen is one of the top causes of skin cancer? Says so right here." He tapped the back of the bottle for emphasis.

You frowned, pushing your sunglasses up into your hair. “Joel…”

Joel crouched beside you, the sun casting a golden glow over his tanned skin, making every line of his toned arms stand out as he shook the sunscreen bottle. “Sit up,” he repeated, his voice carrying that soft but undeniable authority that made you instinctively obey, even as your brow furrowed in playful annoyance.

“You’re bossy, you know that?” you muttered, adjusting yourself on the lounger.

“Someone’s gotta keep you in line,” Joel shot back, uncapping the bottle with a smirk. His gaze flickered over your shoulders, his expression softening slightly. “You got burnt yesterday. Can’t let that happen again.”

“Thanks, Mom,” you teased, though the way his eyes lingered made your chest tighten in a way that was anything but maternal.

He chuckled low, leaning in to smooth the sunscreen over your shoulders. His hands were warm, strong, and far too deliberate for your heart to stay steady. “Relax,” he said softly, his voice almost a purr as his thumbs kneaded gently into your skin. “Not my first rodeo.”

“You do this for all your roommates?” you quipped, though your voice wavered when his hands slid down the curve of your shoulder blades.

Joel paused, his lips quirking upward as he leaned just a fraction closer, his breath ghosting against your ear. “Only the ones I like.”

Your heart thudded against your ribs, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of a response. “How kind of you,” you said instead, your tone light, though your pulse was anything but calm.

“What can I say?” Joel said, his grin turning downright wicked as he shifted to smooth sunscreen over the tops of your arms. “I’m a giver.”

The insinuation hung in the air, thick and electric. Your cheeks burned hotter than the sun, and you cursed your brain for immediately flashing back to the things he’d said last night.

“You’re quiet,” he said softly, his voice breaking through your thoughts.

“Yeah, well,” you muttered, your breath hitching slightly as his fingers grazed the nape of your neck, “not much to say when someone’s slathering you in sunscreen.”

Joel chuckled, the sound low and warm, rumbling against your back. “There,” he said, his voice lighter now.

“Well, thanks, I guess,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant, though the way Joel’s hands lingered for just a moment too long sent an undeniable thrill through you. You tried to ignore it, shifting back against the lounger to lie down, but Joel coughed.

“What now?” you asked, glancing at him over your shoulder.

He raised an eyebrow, his grin faint but mischievous. “You forgettin’ ’bout me?”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re a grown man, Joel. You can put your own sunscreen on.”

“Yeah, but I can’t reach my back, genius,” he said, giving you a look that was equal parts exasperation and amusement. “C’mon. I just hit you with a cancer fact. You really want me to get cancer?”

You groaned dramatically, sitting up. “You’re insufferable.”

Joel just chuckled, his grin widening as he said, “Good girl.”

The words hit you harder than you expected, low and rough in that way only he could pull off, and you hated the way your heart stuttered in response. Joel turned, presenting his back to you as he handed over the bottle of sunscreen.

You squeezed some into your hands, rubbing them together before pressing your palms against the broad expanse of his back. His muscles tensed immediately under your touch, the warmth of his skin making your breath catch.

You slapped the last bit of sunscreen onto his back a little harder than necessary. “There. Cancer-free.”

Joel laughed softly, the sound rumbling through his chest as he turned to glance over his shoulder at you. “Thanks, roomie,” he said, flashing you that crooked smile that made your stomach flip.

You shook your head at his antics before glancing around. Something caught your eye—a woman nearby sipping a colorful drink that looked particularly refreshing. Sitting up, you brushed your hair out of your face. "Hey," you said, turning to him. "I’m gonna grab a drink. Want anything? A beer?"

Joel cracked one eye open from where he was stretched out on his lounger, his expression shifting instantly from relaxed to alert. “What? No,” he said, already moving to sit up. “You stay here—I’ll go.”

“Joel,” you said, laughing softly. “I can handle walking a few steps to get a drink. I promise it’s not a Herculean task.”

He scoffed, standing and grabbing his wallet from the side table. “Not happenin’. I’m Southern. We don’t let the ladies lift a damn finger.”

You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “Oh, is that right?”

“Damn right,” he said, throwing you a lopsided grin as he stood over you, the sun casting golden highlights across his face. He shifted slightly, sliding his wallet into his back pocket with practiced ease. “Now, what’ll it be’?”

You tilted your head, pretending to deliberate. “Hmm… surprise me,” you said finally, leaning back with a smirk.

Joel raised an eyebrow, his grin widening as he bent slightly toward you. “Oh, you must really trust me now, huh?”

You shrugged, doing your best to appear nonchalant despite the way his proximity made your stomach flutter. “Guess we’ll see,” you teased.

Joel straightened, shaking his head with an amused chuckle. “Alright. Don’t move. Be back in a sec,” he said, giving you a parting wink before sauntering toward the bar.

You couldn’t help but watch him go, the way his broad shoulders shifted, the confident, easy sway of his steps.

He reached the drinks bar, leaning casually against the counter as he spoke to the bartender. After a moment, he glanced back over his shoulder, catching your eye. Joel smiled, that damn charming smile of his, and raised a hand to wave. You waved back, warmth blooming in your chest despite yourself.

And then, of course, you noticed her. The waitress — insanely beautiful, with flawless skin, a dazzling smile, and a figure that made your confidence waver in an instant. She was laughing at something Joel said, her glossy hair catching the sunlight as she leaned a little too close.

You felt your stomach twist as she placed her hand lightly on Joel’s forearm, the gesture casual but intimate. Joel didn’t pull away. Why would he? He was single, a man—of course he’d flirt back. And he did, flashing her that same charming smile he’d given you just moments ago.

You tried to shake it off, leaning back in your lounger and adjusting your sunglasses, but the ache in your chest wouldn’t go away. It wasn’t jealousy, you told yourself. Not really. Joel was free to talk to whoever he wanted, flirt with whoever he wanted.

Finally, Joel returned, two drinks in hand. He moved with that same easy confidence, the kind that felt both infuriating and magnetic, like he had no idea the effect he had on people—or maybe he did. His expression was casual, but as he got closer, you noticed the slight furrow in his brow, like he’d picked up on the shift in your mood.

“Guess which one’s yours,” he said as he settled down onto his lounger. He balanced the drinks carefully, one a beer and the other a concoction that looked like a unicorn had exploded into a glass, complete with glittery sugar on the rim.

You tilted your head, pretending to consider. “Hmm…” You pointed to the beer, a small smirk playing on your lips. “That one.”

Joel let out a loud, buzzer-like sound, shaking his head with a grin. "Wrong." He handed you the colorful drink, his fingers brushing against yours for the briefest moment before he leaned back with his beer. "Here," he said casually.

"Thanks," you murmured, taking the drink from his hand. You hesitated for only a second before adding, "So," a playful edge creeping into your tone, "Blondie seemed pretty interested."

Joel lowered his beer slightly, turning his head to look at you through his sunglasses. You felt the weight of his attention, and it made your pulse quicken. “The waitress?” he asked, his tone unreadable, casual in a way that somehow made it worse.

“Yeah,” you said, shrugging as you adjusted your posture. You hoped you looked relaxed, but the ice rattling in the glass betrayed you. “She was all smiles and giggles. You should, uh… go talk to her.”

The words felt heavy, wrong. You hadn’t meant to say them. Why did you always do this? Push men away, pretend you didn’t care, when every fiber of your being was screaming at you to hold on tighter?

Joel chuckled softly, a low, gravelly sound that sent a shiver down your spine. He set his beer down on the small table between you, the bottle clinking softly against the glass top. Then he pulled his sunglasses off, revealing those sharp, dark eyes that always seemed to cut straight through your defenses.

“Now why would I do that?” he asked, his voice calm but edged with something you couldn’t quite name.

You blinked, taken aback by the simplicity of his question. “Because she’s interested in you,” you said, your voice quieter now, almost unsure.

Joel tilted his head slightly, his gaze steady as he studied you, like he was trying to piece together a puzzle. The corners of his lips twitched, and he leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “Well,” he said, his voice softer now, “I’m not interested in her.”

Your breath caught, your heart stuttering in your chest. He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and yet, the way his tone softened at the end made the words hit differently, made them linger.

“Plus,” he added, his voice lighter now, playful as his foot nudged your leg, “I’d rather sit here with you.”

The words sent a rush of heat through you, even though he delivered them casually, like it wasn’t a declaration but a simple fact. He grinned, leaning back in his chair, his eyes never leaving yours. The weight of his gaze made your skin feel too tight, your heart pounding in your chest.

Your lips parted, but no sound came out. You wanted to say something clever, something to break the tension that hummed between you, but your brain seemed to have short-circuited.

“So,” Joel said, breaking the silence as he reached into his bag. “You remember our bet, right?” His lopsided grin deepened as he pulled out a weathered baseball cap and placed it on his head.

His hair, sun-kissed and tousled from the day, peeked out in messy waves beneath the brim, and his lips—slightly pink from the beer and sun—curved into that easy, damnable smile that always made your heart skip.

“Yes,” you replied, leaning back in your chair as you tried to match his nonchalance. “Whoever guesses when Tommy will propose gets... what was it again?”

Joel tilted the brim of his hat, pretending to think. “The other’s social security number,” he deadpanned, his tone as casual as if he were suggesting splitting an appetizer. “Nothin’ big.”

You laughed, the sound bubbling out of you before you could stop it. Why did he have to be so damn cute and funny? It wasn’t fair.

“So,” Joel said, his voice dipping just enough to make the air feel heavier as he took another sip of his beer, “you think he’ll do it during the hike?”

You tilted your head, considering it. “Hmm,” you mused, tapping your finger against your glass. “I don’t think so. I mean, Maria will want to look good when it happens, you know? Not sweating and gross. Plus,” you added, glancing at him with a grin, “I have a feeling we’ll be there for the actual proposal. Tommy’s the kind of guy who’d want witnesses.”

Joel’s brows lifted slightly, a hint of impressed amusement in his gaze. “You make some valid points,” he admitted, his voice low and thoughtful, though the corner of his mouth twitched as if he were holding back a smirk. “I’m startin’ to worry I might lose to you.”

You tilted your head, your grin growing as you leaned just a little closer. “I have a feeling you’re not used to losing, Miller.”

Joel chuckled, leaning back in his chair, the brim of his hat tilted just enough to shade his eyes. “Not often,” he admitted, his tone light, almost like he was testing the waters. His gaze lingered on you for a moment, sharp but unreadable, before he tipped his beer bottle toward you. “Guess it’ll be good for me. Keep me humble.”

Joel leaned back now, his broad shoulders catching the sunlight in a way that made it impossible not to stare. You caught yourself looking as he pulled out his phone, scrolling for a moment, his thumb moving lazily over the screen. Then, with a sudden movement, he sat up straighter, his face lighting up as if he’d just remembered something.

“Shoot, I almost forgot,” he said, setting his phone down and turning toward his tote bag.

“What?” you asked, sitting up a little in your lounger, intrigued despite yourself.

Joel leaned over to dig into the bag, the muscles in his arms flexing as he rummaged through it. You swore he was doing it on purpose. “Got ya somethin’,” he said casually, his voice almost too casual.

You took a sip of your drink, eyeing him warily. “Should I be scared?”

“Terrified,” he replied with a smirk, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Great,” you muttered, your tone dry, but a smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

“Alright,” he said, pulling something out of the bag and holding it behind his back. “Close your eyes.”

“Seriously, Joel?”

“C’mon now,” he coaxed, his grin widening. “Promise it’s nothin’ kinky.”

You squinted at him, unimpressed. “Wasn’t even worried about that, but now I am.”

He chuckled, a deep, rich sound that sent a flutter through your chest. “Trust me. Just do it.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes dramatically but obliging him. “Fine. But if it’s something weird, I’m chucking it in the pool.”

“Hands out,” he instructed, and you could practically hear the sly grin in his voice.

With a sigh, you held out your hands. “Wow,” Joel teased, his tone thick with innuendo. “So obedient.”

“You’re a perv,” you shot back, laughing softly. But then something soft and light landed in your palms, and your curiosity piqued. “Can I look now?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You opened your eyes, and there it was—a Hawaiian Hello Kitty plushie, complete with a tiny grass skirt and a pink flower tucked behind its ear. The sight of it hit you like a wave, disarming and unexpectedly sweet.

“Oh my God,” you breathed, clutching the plushie. “This is so cute.”

Joel laughed, the sound warm and easy as he took a sip of his beer. “You like it? I was pickin’ up snacks for us to try later, saw it, and thought of you. You know, cute, girlie…” He shrugged casually.

“I love it,” you said, the words spilling out without hesitation. Your heart swelled as you held it closer, running your fingers over the soft fabric.

“Good,” Joel said, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied grin. “Thought you might be missin’ Mimi.”

The mention of your cat made you laugh, a soft, genuine sound that eased the tension you hadn’t even realized you were carrying. “She’s gonna be so jealous when I get home with this.”

Joel shook his head, his gaze lingering on you for a beat longer than necessary. “Glad you like it,” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost shy. For just a moment, the teasing melted away, leaving something warmer, deeper in its place. His eyes flicked down to the plushie in your hands, then back up to your face, as though he was committing this moment to memory.

“Well, now I gotta get you something,” you said, your voice lighter, trying to shake off the way his stare made your chest feel tight.

Joel leaned back in his lounger, casual and effortless, his grin slowly spreading. “I can think of a way you could pay me back,” he said, his tone laced with just enough suggestion to make your stomach flip.

“Oh, God,” you groaned, rolling your eyes even as your cheeks warmed.

Joel chuckled, his voice low and warm. “Geez roomie. Get your dirty mind outta the gutter,” he teased, his grin turning mischievous. “I meant you could try stayin’ on your side of the bed for once. You know, as payment for my generosity.” He leaned over to poke your side gently, his finger brushing against your ribs.

Your blush deepened, and you hugged the plushie closer to your chest. “Sorry about that,” you mumbled, though you couldn’t help the small, sheepish smile tugging at your lips. “I didn’t realize I was such a bed hog.”

Joel’s grin softened, his teasing easing into something gentler. “I’m jokin’,” he said, his voice dipping lower. “I like it. You’re cute when you sleep.”

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

It hadn’t even been ten minutes of peaceful reading when you heard a long, exaggerated groan from the lounger beside you.

You turned your head, eyebrows raised in amusement, to find Joel sprawled out, one arm slung lazily over the back of his chair. His book was balanced precariously on his lap, his impossibly short red shorts leaving little to the imagination. “You good?” you asked, your tone half-curious, half-mocking.

“I’m fuckin’ bored,” Joel declared dramatically, tipping his head back to glare at the sky. Then he turned to you, his dark eyes locking on yours. “You’re ignorin’ me when we could be chattin’.”

You sighed, snapping your book closed with a soft thud. “What happened to reading?” you asked, gesturing toward the book he hadn’t even bothered to open.

“Got bored,” he shrugged, the motion impossibly nonchalant, as if his restlessness was your problem to fix.

“Jesus,” you muttered, leaning back in your chair. “You’re like dealing with a child.”

Joel’s grin spread slow and wicked across his face, his tone dropping into something deeper, richer. “Nothin’ childish about me, darlin’,” he drawled, the insinuation hanging thick in the air between you.

You rolled your eyes, but your chest tightened at the way his gaze lingered on you. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, though the edge in your voice wasn’t nearly as sharp as you’d hoped.

Joel turned his body fully toward you now, resting his forearm on the armrest and leaning in slightly. His expression turned mischievous, his grin full of trouble. “So,” he started, his eyes flicking to your phone resting beside you, “you one of those Instagram influencers or somethin’?”

Your eyebrows shot up. “What?”

He gestured vaguely, his grin widening. “I dunno. Just got the vibe, is all. Pretty girl. Always readin’ or sippin’ iced coffee. Bet you got a ton of followers.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m on private,” you said, leaning forward to grab your drink. “I think I’ve got, like, 300 followers. Maybe.”

Joel hummed, his grin softening into something warmer as he tilted his head. “Green flag,” he teased, his voice playful but with an undertone that made your stomach flip.

“Oh, and you?” you shot back, leaning toward him now. “You add all your Hinge matches on Instagram?”

Joel let out a laugh, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. “Nah,” he said, smirking. “They don’t get that luxury.”

You rolled your eyes, sipping your drink to hide your grin. “Sure.”

“C’mon,” Joel said, shifting closer, his arm draping over the back of his lounger as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Lemme follow you.”

“You wanna follow my Instagram?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged, the motion effortlessly casual. “We’re friends, right? Ain’t that what friends do?”

You smiled despite yourself. “Alright,” you said, giving him your username as he typed it in.

As you accepted @JoelMiller91's follow request, Joel sat up straighter, his attention fixed on your Instagram profile as he scrolled through it. He angled the phone so you could see the screen, his thumb moving deliberately, pausing on a photo of Mimi curled into a perfect ball.

“Damn,” he said, his tone teasing but with a hint of something warmer. “This is, like, a full-on Mimi shrine. Look at this—‘Mimi in the sun,’ ‘Mimi with a bow,’ ‘Mimi judging you.’”

You snorted, leaning over slightly to peek at the screen. “She’s very photogenic.”

He grinned, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “You got, what? Three photos of yourself on here, tops?”

“Well, Mimi’s cuter than me,” you said, shrugging as you sipped your drink.

Joel hummed, a low, thoughtful sound that made your stomach flip. “Agree to disagree,” he murmured, his eyes still scanning your feed.

Your breath caught as his gaze flicked back to you, his grin widening. “Alright,” he said suddenly, sitting up on his knees and setting his beer aside. “We gotta fix this.”

“Fix what?” you asked, watching him warily.

He gestured to your phone. “This ratio. You and Mimi. I’m takin’ some pictures of you.”

“What, now?” you asked, your voice incredulous.

“No, tonight when you’re half-asleep and grumpy. Yes, now.” Joel was already on his feet, standing in front of your lounger, phone in hand.

“Joel, I’m not exactly the ‘pose in a bikini’ type,” you muttered, squirming slightly under his intense gaze.

“Who said anything about posing?” he said, crouching slightly to adjust the angle. “Just sit up. Relax. I’ll do the work.”

You groaned, but before you could protest further, the shutter sound clicked. “Oh my God, Joel!”

“C’mon,” he teased, grinning at you over the top of the phone. “You’re gorgeous. The world deserves to see.”

You flushed, shaking your head. “I’m really bad at posing.”

“Don’t pose, then. Just…” He gestured vaguely with the phone. “Pretend to read your book.”

“Fine,” you muttered, picking up your book again and settling back against the lounger. You tried to focus on the words, but your mind was too occupied by the way Joel moved around, crouching and angling himself like some overly enthusiastic photographer.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his tone softening. “These are nice.” He stood up straight, his gaze flicking back to you, and for a moment, you swore you saw something unguarded in his expression.

You couldn’t help but blush. “Alright, are we done?”

“Not yet.” He gestured toward your drink. “Take a sip.”

You rolled your eyes, but you did as he asked, lifting the glass to your lips.

“There she is,” he said under his breath, his voice almost reverent. “Atta girl.”

You set the drink down and glared at him playfully. “Happy now?”

Joel grinned as he settled onto your lounger, the chair dipping under his weight. It was too small for one person to sit comfortably, let alone two, and the proximity sent your pulse fluttering in your throat. His thigh pressed against yours, warm and solid, as he leaned in, his phone angled toward you.

“Look at this one,” he said, his voice carrying a boyish excitement as he swiped to a photo. He tilted the screen toward you, leaning in just enough for you to catch the faint, sharp scent of his aftershave. “You look like a Victoria’s Secret model or somethin’.”

You flushed, heat prickling at the back of your neck as you pushed the phone away gently, your gaze darting toward the pool instead. “Stop,” you murmured, trying to laugh it off. “I don’t need to see.”

Joel’s brows furrowed as he turned the phone back to himself, glancing at the picture again like he couldn’t fathom what you were talking about. “You’re kidding, right?” His tone was softer now, laced with something tender and earnest.

You shook your head, still not meeting his eyes. “I’m not...,” you muttered, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear in a nervous gesture.

When you eventually met his gaze, the usual mischief in his brown eyes had melted into something achingly sincere. “You’re gorgeous,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “How can’t you see that?” His brows knit together, a flicker of frustration in his expression, as if he couldn’t understand how you didn’t see it yourself.

The words settled over you, heavy and warm, and for a moment, the world around you—the sounds of splashing water, distant laughter, the hum of conversation—faded into nothing. All you could hear was the soft, steady cadence of his voice and the way it made your chest ache.

You cleared your throat, trying to dispel the tension that wrapped around you like a vice. “Alright,” you hummed, finally setting your book aside and breaking the spell. “Let’s see yours then.”

Joel froze, his expression teetering between amusement and mild panic. “Oh, hell no,” he said, quickly pulling his phone back as if to shield it from your view.

“What? That’s so unfair,” you protested, swatting his thigh playfully.

“Alright, alright,” Joel groaned, rolling his eyes before surrendering the phone with a reluctant sigh. “Here. Take it.” He passed it over, leaning back into the lounger and taking a sip of his beer, his eyes fixed on you as you started scrolling through his photos.

The first photo was a group shot at the beach—Joel and a handful of friends standing knee-deep in the water, beers in hand, all of them grinning like idiots. Joel stood off to the side, his smile easy and boyish. “Aw,” you cooed, tilting the phone toward him. “Look at you. So wholesome.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Joel muttered, waving you off. “Keep scrollin’.”

The next photo made your breath hitch. Joel, shirtless, standing beside a grill with a spatula in hand. His skin was sun-kissed, his hair slightly tousled from what must’ve been a long day outside. He wasn’t even looking at the camera, his focus instead on whatever he was cooking, but damn. You swallowed, the image burning itself into your brain.

“Jesus,” you muttered, quickly swiping to the next photo. “Do you have something against shirts, or…?”

“You complaining?” he smirked, his tone playful.

You shook your head, laughing softly as you scrolled to the next post. It was him and a woman—a beautiful woman. She was smiling brightly, leaning against him as his arm rested loosely around her shoulders. The caption read, Alright company. Your chest tightened inexplicably, and you fought to keep your expression neutral.

“This your ex?” you asked, feigning nonchalance, though your voice came out a touch too casual.

Joel leaned forward slightly, peeking at the screen before letting out a deep laugh. “My cousin,” he said with a shake of his head.

“Oh,” you said, relief washing over you far too quickly for your liking.

Joel didn’t let it go, though. His grin widened, and his dark eyes glinted with mischief. “What’s this, huh?” he teased, his voice dropping an octave. “You jealous?”

“Please,” you scoffed, trying to mask the embarrassment twisting in your chest. “As if.”

Joel tilted his head, watching you with that knowing smirk that was both infuriating and dangerously charming. “Alright,” he said, his tone light but teasing.

Joel set his phone aside, leaning back against the lounger with an easy grace, his arm wrapping lazily around your shoulders. His fingers traced absent patterns up and down your arm, sending shivers across your skin in a way that felt both casual and entirely deliberate. Then, without a word, he reached up, pulled off his baseball cap, and plopped it onto your head, ruffling your hair in the process.

“There,” he said, his lips curving into a satisfied grin as he tilted his head to admire his work. “Looks better on you.”

You huffed, reaching up to adjust the cap, but the warmth blooming in your chest betrayed your feigned annoyance. “You’re seriously cockblocking me right now,” you muttered under your breath, lifting your drink to take a sip, hoping it would hide the telltale flush creeping up your neck.

Joel’s eyebrows shot up, and then his mouth curved into a wide, teasing grin. “Me? Your fake vacation boyfriend, cock-blocking you? I’d never.”

You rolled your eyes, aiming for exasperation, but the heat on your cheeks gave you away. “Sure,” you muttered, leaning back in your seat, trying to ignore the way his eyes seemed to linger on you a moment too long.

His grin faltered, just slightly, and he glanced down at the beer in his hand, swirling the bottle idly. The teasing air around him softened, replaced by something quieter, almost contemplative.

“What?” you asked, the shift in his tone pulling your attention. You tilted your head, your gaze narrowing as you tried to read him.

Joel’s fingers tapped against the glass of his beer before he looked up at you, his eyes dark and steady. “You tryna find a boyfriend here or somethin’?” he asked, his voice low, casual—too casual.

You blinked, caught completely off guard by the question. “What?” you repeated, letting out a light laugh. “No, Joel. God, no. But even if I was…” You hesitated, fiddling with the condensation on your glass. “I don’t think anyone would dare approach me. Not with us sitting here looking like we’re… like this.”

Joel tilted his head, his gaze unwavering. “Lovey-dovey, huh?” His lips twitched into something that wasn’t quite a smirk but wasn’t far off either.

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat as his hand, warm and rough, drifted to your thigh. He traced slow, deliberate circles against your skin, his touch light but impossible to ignore.

“Maybe,” Joel said after a moment, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant, “maybe I don’t want anyone approachin’ you.”

You froze, your breath catching as his words hung between you, heavy with unspoken meaning. Slowly, you lifted your gaze to meet his, and the way he was looking at you—soft, sincere, and a little unsure—made your chest ache.

“Joel,” you started, your voice barely above a whisper, but he cut you off with a slight shake of his head.

“I’m serious,” he murmured, his thumb brushing against your leg now, his touch grounding. “Maybe I like this. Us… like this.”

Your chest tightened, your mind racing to keep up with the sudden shift. You furrowed your brows, forcing out a laugh to lighten the weight of his words. “You flirt too much,” you said, trying to sound teasing, though your voice wavered.

“I flirt,” he admitted, his lips curving into the faintest smile, “but this ain’t that.” He paused, his gaze locking onto yours, earnest and unguarded in a way you hadn’t seen before. “This is me bein’ honest.”

You swallowed hard, your throat tight as his words lingered between you. The weight of his gaze, the sincerity in his voice—it was too much, too raw. You forced a smile, trying to ignore the way your chest ached. “We should get back,” you murmured, brushing your hand against your thigh as if the movement might ground you. “Don’t wanna get burnt like yesterday.”

Joel’s expression flickered for a moment, something unreadable flashing across his face, but then he nodded, his lips curving into a small, almost reluctant smile. “Yeah,” he said, his voice soft, easy, but it carried an undercurrent you couldn’t quite place. “Let’s go.”

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

Dinner was, as always, lively and full of laughter. Maria and Tommy regaled you with tales of their hike, Maria’s animated hand gestures making you chuckle as she recounted, with dramatic flair, how “Tommy slipped and almost died.”

Even with Joel’s quiet confession from earlier still echoing in your mind, the two of you fell into the same easy rhythm as always. If anything had shifted between you, neither of you let it show. Joel teased Maria about exaggerating, you joined in, and Tommy feigned indignation, his grin betraying him.

The living room had become your little sanctuary after dinner, where everyone gathered to wind down. The warm glow of the lamp bathed the space in soft amber light, casting flickering shadows that made the room feel cozier. The low hum of conversation and the occasional clink of glasses filled the air, a soundtrack to these lazy, contented evenings.

A half-empty bottle of whiskey lounged on the coffee table, surrounded by an assortment of glasses and a scattered pile of peanut M&M’s that had clearly been Joel’s doing. You tugged at the hem of your silky pink pajama shorts as you made your way in, the fabric brushing softly against your thighs. Settling into the chair facing the couches, you tucked your legs beneath you, stealing a quick glance around.

“Ooh, pink,” Joel drawled, his voice pulling your attention. He leaned back on the couch, one arm slung lazily over the cushions while the other popped another M&M into his mouth. His dark eyes flicked over you, a teasing grin curling his lips. “I like that color on you.”

Your cheeks flushed instantly, the warmth rushing to your face faster than you could hide it. You glanced down for a beat, then back up, offering him a shy smile. “Thanks,” you murmured, your voice soft as you adjusted your position, tucking your legs a little tighter beneath you.

Joel’s grin widened, but he didn’t push further, though the playful glint in his eyes lingered, making your heart race just a little faster than you’d like to admit.

Maria, seated next to Tommy on the other side of the couch, suddenly reached for the remote, pausing the movie they’d been half-watching. “Okay,” she announced, sitting up with an energy that made you suspicious. “Tonight, we’re gonna play…” She turned dramatically toward Tommy and Joel, clapping her hands together. “Drumroll, please!”

Tommy immediately leaned forward, drumming his hands against the coffee table. Joel, always the joker, slapped his thigh loudly, his grin turning into a laugh when Tommy gave him an exasperated look.

Maria threw her hands in the air. “Truth or Dare!”

You let out an audible sigh, sinking further into your chair. “Really?” you asked, your tone somewhere between amusement and dread.

“Yes, really,” Maria said, narrowing her eyes at you. “Don’t be a party pooper.”

You glanced around the room, your resolve slipping under Maria’s playful glare and the way Joel was watching you with that infuriatingly charming grin. “Alright, fine,” you said, relenting with a dramatic sigh.

“Atta girl,” Joel chimed in, his voice warm and teasing. “But why’re you sittin’ so far away? C’mon, I don’t bite.” He patted the empty space on the couch beside him.

Hesitating for just a moment, you finally stood, smoothing down your pajama shorts as you crossed the room. Joel’s gaze followed you, warm and steady, and when you lowered yourself into the seat beside him, his arm draped casually over your shoulder, the movement so seamless it felt almost automatic.

“See? That’s better,” he murmured, his voice dropping slightly as his fingers brushed lightly against your shoulder. His scent surrounded you—something clean and woodsy, mingled with the faintest hint of the beer he’d been sipping—and it made your head swim. You fought to keep your breathing steady as he leaned back, his thumb lazily tracing an idle pattern on your arm, his presence entirely too consuming.

“Alright, brother,” Joel said, his voice light with mischief. “Truth or dare?”

Tommy leaned back against the couch, his arms spread wide like he was ready for anything. “Dare,” he said confidently.

Joel laughed, the sound rich and deep, already brimming with amusement. “Alright, I dare you to…” He paused for effect, his eyes sparkling with wicked delight as he grinned at Maria. “Suck Maria’s toes.”

“Ew, Joel!” you exclaimed, nudging him in the ribs. “That’s disgusting.”

“What?” Joel said, feigning innocence as he rubbed the spot where you’d elbowed him. “It’s a dare. Ain’t my fault Tommy said he’d take one.”

Tommy, to everyone’s surprise, slid off the couch and onto the floor in front of Maria. He pointed a finger at Joel, his expression dead serious. “You think I won’t do it, Joel?”

Maria shrieked, pulling her legs up onto the couch and hiding her feet under a throw pillow. “No, Tommy! Gross! Don’t you dare!”

“C’mon, baby,” Tommy said, reaching for her ankles with exaggerated determination. “I ain’t losin’ to my brother.”

“You’re disgusting!” Maria yelled, laughing uncontrollably as she swatted at him. “Get away from me, oh my God!”

Joel was laughing so hard he nearly doubled over, his hand brushing against your knee as he steadied himself. “Oh man,” he said between breaths, “this is better than I could’ve hoped for.”

Still chuckling, Joel straightened up, his hand lingering just a moment too long before he pulled it away, leaving a phantom warmth behind. He pointed toward the tequila bottle on the table, his smirk turning mischievous. “Alright,” he said, his drawl playful and commanding. “You failed your dare. Gotta drink.”

Tommy groaned, grabbing the shot glass and downing it in one go, his face twisting in dramatic agony as he slammed the glass back onto the table. “Ugh, that’s brutal,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“Rules are rules,” Joel said with a smirk, leaning back on the couch and looking far too pleased with himself.

“Alright, wise guy,” Tommy said, poking Joel in the chest with one finger, his competitive streak clearly coming to life. “Truth or dare?”

Joel’s eyes flicked to you for a moment, a faint spark of mischief dancing in them before he leaned forward with an exaggerated air of confidence. “Dare,” he said, his voice slow and deliberate.

You let out a groan, leaning your head back against the couch. “Why do men always choose dare?” you murmured.

Joel turned his head, smirking at you. “Because, darlin’, truth’s too easy. Dares keep things interesting.”

Tommy’s grin turned downright devious as he scanned the room, his gaze settling on you like a predator locking onto its prey. “Alright,” Tommy said slowly, dragging the word out for maximum effect. “I dare you to give this lovely lady…” He pointed directly at you, his grin widening. “…a full Magic Mike lap dance.”

“What?!” you exclaimed, sitting up straight, your cheeks instantly burning. “No way. Absolutely not.”

Joel let out a low laugh, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair. “You’re somethin’ else, Tommy,” he said, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes as he glanced at you. “But hey, a dare’s a dare.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re not seriously going to do this.”

Joel shrugged, his grin turning slow and wicked as he stood, rolling his shoulders like he was gearing up for a performance. “What can I say? I don’t back down from a challenge—especially if it’s an excuse to take my shirt off.”

“Joel,” you said, your voice rising slightly in protest, but he was already stepping around the coffee table, his movements smooth and confident as he approached you.

“Oh, c’mon,” Maria chimed in, laughing as she nudged Tommy. “This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Do it, Joel!”

Joel smirked, his gaze locked onto yours now, playful and teasing but somehow disarming all at once. “Relax,” he murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “I’ll keep it PG.”

You couldn’t decide if that made things better or worse.

He stopped just in front of you, tilting his head slightly, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “Alright, sweetheart,” he said, his tone low and dripping with charm. “You ready for the show of a lifetime?”

“Oh my God,” you muttered, feeling your face heat as you instinctively covered it with your hands. Joel’s laugh was low and warm, and you could feel it ripple through you, making your pulse quicken.

Tommy, of course, had found Pony on his phone, and the unmistakable opening beat filled the room. The sultry lyrics—I'm just a bachelor…—sent Maria into a fit of laughter. Joel turned his head toward you, a slow, deliberate grin spreading across his face, one that practically radiated mischief. Trouble. Before you could say a word, he leaned in, his hands bracketing your body as you instinctively sank further back into the couch.

“Don’t worry,” he drawled, his voice a warm murmur against your cheek. “I’ll be gentle.”

Your heart raced, your breath catching as you tried to process the nearness of him, the way his eyes flicked over your face like he was gauging every reaction. Before you could form a response, Joel straightened, his expression shifting to something far too smug as he stepped back and began to move.

And God, did he move.

His hips swayed to the beat, slow and deliberate, his hands running through his hair before trailing down his chest with exaggerated precision. It was ridiculous and yet… not.

Joel had a way of commanding the space around him, making every motion seem effortless, every glance deliberate. The energy in the room shifted, a mix of laughter and something heavier—something you couldn’t ignore.

Shit, he was sexy.

Then, with the faintest smirk tugging at his lips, Joel reached for the hem of his shirt. Slowly, agonizingly, he began to lift it, revealing a sliver of tanned skin and the faintest hint of muscle as he moved to the beat. Your stomach flipped as you watched, your breath hitching when he met your eyes again.

“Oh my God,” Maria wheezed, slapping Tommy’s arm. “He’s really doing it.”

Joel ignored her, his focus entirely on you.

The air between you seemed to crackle as he tugged the shirt higher, revealing more of his toned stomach, the faint trail of hair leading down from his navel making your face burn. He didn’t stop there, pulling the shirt over his head in one smooth motion and tossing it aside, his grin growing as he caught the stunned look on your face.

“Joel!” you hissed, mortified and utterly unable to look away. “This is insane.”

“Yeah?” he drawled, stepping closer, his voice rougher now, a teasing edge layered with something deeper that sent a shiver down your spine. His gaze locked onto yours, dark and smoldering, his smirk a devastating mix of cocky and alluring. “Thought you liked a little crazy, darlin’.”

You opened your mouth to respond, to throw out some quip to defuse the growing tension, but the words caught in your throat as Joel reached for your hands. His fingers wrapped around yours, warm and steady, and he guided them slowly to his chest.

Your breath hitched as he directed your hands downward, over the taut planes of his chest, across the curve of his ribs, and lower still. His muscles flexed under your fingertips, firm and defined, as he moved your hands across his abdomen with deliberate slowness. The heat of his skin radiated through his shirt, every motion purposeful, intimate.

You should pull your hands away, tell him to stop, but you couldn’t. You were utterly mesmerized, caught in the intoxicating push and pull of his presence.

Then, Joel dropped to one knee in front of you with a smooth, deliberate motion, and before you could fully process what was happening, his hand was on your knee. Gently but firmly, he pried your legs apart just enough to step closer, his movements so fluid it left you stunned.

Your instinct was to close them again, your body reacting on autopilot, but Joel’s other hand caught your knee, holding you there. “Ah, ah,” he murmured, low enough that only you could hear. His voice was teasing, but his grip was steady, unyielding, as he tilted his head to meet your wide-eyed stare. The music thrummed around you, its sensual beat matching the rhythm of your pulse pounding in your ears.

“Holy shit,” Tommy howled from the couch, his laughter breaking the spell for just a moment.

Joel ignored him, his attention fixed entirely on you. He reached down for his shirt, which he’d tossed on the floor earlier, and in one smooth, exaggerated motion, twirled it above his head. The playful movement drew laughter from the room, but his eyes never left yours, daring you to look away.

You didn’t.

Finally, Joel stood, his grin softening as he stepped back and ran a hand through his hair, his chest rising and falling with each breath. He turned to Tommy and Maria, throwing his arms out dramatically. “There,” he said, his voice light but tinged with satisfaction. “That good enough for ya?” as he tugged his shirt back on

Tommy doubled over, his laughter echoing through the room. “Hell yeah! That was worth it.”

Maria was practically in tears, clutching her side as she tried to catch her breath. “Oh my God, Joel! That was… I don’t even have words. If all else fails, you could always be a stripper.”

“What’d ya think?” Joel asked, stretching out on the opposite side of the couch. His long legs sprawled lazily in front of him, one arm draped casually across the backrest.

You blinked, your heart still racing from the impromptu performance he’d just put on. “Yeah,” you stammered, barely managing to meet his gaze. “You’re… good at that.”

Joel chuckled, the sound rich and deep, his grin widening into something wickedly self-assured. “Must’ve done somethin’ right if I got you sweatin’ like a sinner in church,” he teased, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief.

Your cheeks burned, and you cleared your throat, looking anywhere but at him.

His grin deepened, downright devilish now, as his gaze locked on yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. His fingers drummed idly against his thigh before he leaned forward slightly, pointing at you with a playful edge that felt like a challenge.

“Alright,” he drawled, his voice low, honeyed, and full of trouble. “Truth or dare, roomie?”

You sighed, already regretting your life choices. Both options seemed like traps in Joel’s hands, but you had to play along. “Fine,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “Truth.”

Joel’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming like a cat toying with a mouse. “Truth, huh? Guess I’ve gotta make it worth your while.”

“Joel…” you warned, narrowing your eyes at him, your fingers fidgeting nervously as you rubbed your hands against your shorts.

His smirk deepened, and he leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees as he sat up and reached for his drink. “What’s your favorite sex position?” he asked, his voice smooth as silk, as if he’d just asked you the weather.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you almost choked on air. “What?!” you sputtered, your eyes wide as heat surged to your face.

Maria gasped loudly, covering her mouth, while Tommy froze mid-drink, his eyes darting between you and Joel.

Joel just shrugged, taking a slow sip of his beer before setting it down with deliberate ease. “What?” he said, feigning innocence, though the playful tilt of his lips betrayed him. “It’s a valid question. You said truth, didn’t you?”

“I—” You blinked, completely thrown off. “That’s not… You can’t just ask that!”

“Sure I can,” Joel replied smoothly, leaning back again and stretching an arm across the back of the couch. His gaze never wavered, and the smug confidence in his expression made you want to throttle him—or possibly kiss him. You weren’t sure which. “You agreed to play, roomie. Can’t back out now.”

“C’mon now,” he said softly, his voice dipping lower, more intimate. “It’s just a question. I’ll keep it between us if you’re shy.”

Your heart pounded, your brain scrambling for an answer that wouldn’t make things worse. Joel’s gaze was unrelenting, playful yet intense, his presence almost suffocating in the best way. The teasing lilt in his voice, the challenge in his eyes—it was all too much.

Finally, you folded your arms across your chest like armor and muttered, “I don’t have one.”

Joel raised an eyebrow, his grin widening as he leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees. “You’re lying,” he said simply, his voice low and sure. “I can tell.”

“I’m not,” you shot back, your voice a little too quick, a little too defensive.

Joel tilted his head, smirking as he picked up the bottle of tequila and poured a splash into a glass. He held it out toward you, his grin never wavering. “It’s called Truth or Dare—or Drink,” he said, his tone maddeningly casual. “If you’re gonna lie, you gotta drink.”

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, glaring at him as you felt the heat rising to your face. “You’re the worst.”

Joel chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. “I get that a lot.”

You stared at the glass for a moment, weighing your options, but you knew drinking would be as good as admitting defeat.

“Fine,” you mumbled.

Joel leaned in closer, his movements slow and deliberate, his smile softening just enough to make your pulse stutter. “Go on,” he urged, his voice low and coaxing. “No judgment here.”

You hesitated, your gaze darting to Maria and Tommy, who were both watching with barely restrained glee. Joel must have noticed because he glanced at them and smirked. “Eyes on your drinks,” he said, waving them off with a flick of his wrist. “This ain’t for y’all.”

Maria giggled, Tommy groaned, but they both obliged, turning their attention to their drinks—though you could feel their barely contained curiosity lingering in the air.

Joel turned back to you, his gaze locking onto yours, steady and unyielding. “Alright” he murmured, his voice softer now. “What’s it gonna be?”

You exhaled shakily, your cheeks blazing as you forced the word out. “Cowgirl.”

Joel blinked, his grin faltering for just a fraction of a second before it returned, slower this time, a little more dangerous. “Cowgirl, huh?” he drawled, his voice rougher now, lower. “That’s… a solid choice.”

Your face burned hotter as you avoided Joel’s gaze, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shorts. You wished the floor would swallow you whole, wished for anything to break the tension thrumming between you. “You said no judgment,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible.

“And I meant it,” Joel said quickly, his tone softening, though the teasing edge in his voice hadn’t fully disappeared. “Matter of fact…” His lips curved into a lazy grin as he leaned back, his arm draped casually across the back of the couch. “Think that’s my favorite too.”

“The question wasn’t for you, Joel,” Tommy teased, shaking his head as he pointed at him. “Why are you always tryna make it about you?”

“This is an open discussion,” Joel shot back smoothly.

You groaned, burying your face in your hands for a brief moment before peeking at him through your fingers. “What do you like about it?” he pressed, his tone dripping with playful curiosity.

“I didn’t realize there were follow-up questions,” you said, your voice dripping with exasperation, though your lips twitched with the beginnings of a smile.

Joel just raised an eyebrow, waiting, his patience maddeningly effective. You sighed, shifting in your seat under the weight of his gaze. “I don’t know,” you said finally, your voice quieter now. “It… feels good. That’s it.”

“Huh,” Joel murmured thoughtfully, leaning forward slightly as if he were considering your words like a philosopher pondering the meaning of life. “What about missionary?”

Your eyes snapped to his, wide with disbelief. “Joel!” you exclaimed, your voice high and mortified.

“What?” he said, completely unbothered, gesturing around the room. “We’re all adults, right? Just a question.”

Tommy groaned, tipping his head back against the couch. “Man, you need a hobby.”

Maria smacked Joel lightly on the arm. “No, he needs to stop.”

You couldn’t help it—you laughed, shaking your head as Joel turned back to you, his grin still firmly in place. “Well?” he asked, ignoring everyone else entirely.

You rolled your eyes but decided to play along. “It’s… fine. With the right person, it's ... nice.”

Joel nodded as if you’d just given the most profound answer. “Fair enough,” he said, his voice thoughtful. “And doggy?”

“Okay!” Maria interrupted, throwing her hands up as she pointed at him. “You. Cold shower. Now.”

Tommy burst out laughing, clutching his stomach as Joel raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright,” he said, though the wicked grin on his face told you he wasn’t remotely sorry.

He turned to you one last time, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “Guess I’ll just have to get your opinion on that one later.”

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

Joel stepped into the room, the towel slung dangerously low on his hips, water still dripping from his hair. A toothbrush hung from the corner of his mouth, and he glanced at you, his eyes crinkling at the edges in amusement.

You were sprawled out on the bed, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, but the moment he entered, the casual atmosphere shifted. The sight of him—damp, shirtless, and so effortlessly masculine—made your stomach flip.

He leaned against the wall for a moment, then started doing pushups against it, the muscles in his back and arms flexing with every movement. “Ninety-nine, one hundred,” he counted, his voice gruff but teasing.

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you. “God, you’re such a man,” you said, emphasizing the word with mock exasperation.

Joel straightened up, spitting the toothpaste into the sink as he grinned. “Sounds like a compliment to me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Put some pants on,” you muttered, trying to focus on your phone again, though the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed you.

“Sure thing,” he said, opening the drawer and pulling out a pair of boxers, which he slung casually over his shoulder like he had all the time in the world.

Then, with an infuriating smirk, he turned toward you. “Cowgirl, huh?”

Your jaw dropped, heat flooding your face. “Joel, stop.”

He shrugged, the smirk never leaving his face. “Just making conversation,” he said with a wink. “Alright, close your eyes.”

“What?” you asked, eyebrows shooting up.

“I’m changin’,” he said simply, tugging at the knot of the towel. “I’ll be naked in like three seconds.”

“Oh my God,” you groaned, slapping a hand over your eyes. “We have a bathroom for a reason.”

“Yeah,” Joel said with a laugh, “but where’s the fun in that?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, but your curiosity got the better of you.

Just a peek, you thought.

You cracked your fingers open just enough to catch a glimpse, and your breath hitched. Joel’s back was tan, the muscles rippling under smooth, sun-kissed skin as he reached into the dresser. The sharp definition of his shoulders tapered into a strong, narrow waist, the dip of his spine leading down to—

Oh. My. God.

The towel fell to the floor, revealing the most perfectly round, firm ass you’d ever seen, framed by powerful thighs that looked as though they could crush steel.

And then you saw his cock.

It hung thick and weighty, the shaft resting against his muscular thigh, even at rest. The skin was tanned like the rest of him, a darker, ruddy hue gracing the head, which was perfectly proportioned and smooth. A faint, darker vein ran along its length, drawing your attention in a way you couldn’t look away from.

The base was framed by a neat patch of dark, coarse hair, blending seamlessly with the faint trail that started at his navel. It was the kind of cock that made your stomach flip, intimidating in its sheer size and girth but undeniably captivating.

Even soft, you couldn’t help but imagine how much bigger, harder it could get, and the thought sent heat rushing through you. You clamped your eyes shut again, your cheeks burning hotter than ever, but the image was burned into your mind now, seared there like a brand you couldn’t shake.

“I’m such a perv,” you thought, your stomach twisting with a mix of embarrassment and something warmer, something far more dangerous.

“All done,” Joel said casually, snapping you out of your spiral.

“Good,” you croaked, your voice barely audible. You risked a glance as he slipped into bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. He turned toward you, his gaze soft and a little too knowing, the corner of his mouth pulling into a lopsided smile.

Gosh, why was he so handsome? The soft lamplight caught the curve of his jaw, the faint flush on his cheeks, the tousled mess of damp hair falling over his forehead.

He smelled like coconut—probably from the hotel body wash—and you felt your stomach twist in ways you didn’t entirely understand.

“Before we go to sleep,” he hummed, his voice low and easy as he propped himself up on one elbow, his head resting on his hand, “truth or truth.”

You laughed, caught off guard. “Joel, I think we’ve had enough of that for one night.”

“Please,” he said, drawing out the word in a way that made it sound so much softer. “Truth or truth,” he repeated, his lips curving upward just enough to betray a hint of nerves behind his teasing tone.

You stared at him, momentarily lost in the way he looked right now—so boyish, so earnest. His pink lips were slightly swollen, his cheeks still a little red, his wet hair falling over his temple in a way that made you want to brush it back.

“Fine,” you murmured, unable to say no when he looked at you like that. “Truth.”

Joel’s grin faltered for the briefest second, the playfulness in his expression dimming as he searched your face.

“Okay,” he said slowly, his voice quieter now, like he was working up the courage. He hesitated, his tongue darting out to wet his lips before his eyes locked on yours, something unguarded and raw in his gaze. “Are you… attracted to me?”

Your heart stuttered, your chest tightening. “What?” you breathed, your eyebrows shooting up as heat rushed to your cheeks.

He shrugged, but the movement was almost self-conscious, like he was trying to play it off even as his eyes stayed steady on you. “It’s a fair question.”

“Joel, I—what are you even talking about?” you stammered, your voice shaky as you tried to process what he’d just asked.

“C’mon,” he said softly, the teasing edge gone now. “Just… tell me. I’m not gonna hold it against you.”

His sincerity threw you off more than the question itself. Joel Miller didn't strike you as the type of guy to be vulnerable like this—wasn’t supposed to ask questions that left your stomach flipping and your heart racing.

But here he was, waiting for an answer, his expression open, his usual confidence tempered with something quieter, something unsure.

You swallowed hard, your pulse pounding in your ears as the air between you seemed to thicken, charged with something unspoken. And for the first time, you didn’t know how to hide.

“You’re a handsome guy,” you shrugged, trying for nonchalance. But the way your voice wavered betrayed you.

Joel tilted his head, his expression unreadable, though there was something sharp, something quietly intent in the way his eyes stayed on yours. “That’s not what I asked,” he murmured, his voice soft but insistent.

Your gaze flicked to him, startled by the shift in his tone. He was watching you so carefully, so thoroughly, like he was trying to decipher every flicker of emotion across your face.

“What?” you said, your breath hitching slightly.

“I said,” he repeated, slower this time, his Southern drawl wrapping around each word like a secret, “are you attracted to me?”

Your heart slammed against your ribs, the words landing heavier than they should have. “I—” you started, then scoffed, shaking your head like it could somehow dispel the heat rushing to your cheeks. “What kind of—who even—”

Joel didn’t interrupt, didn’t move. He just kept looking at you, patient and unyielding, his gaze steady and unrelenting as if he had all the time in the world. And that was worse somehow—because it left you nowhere to hide.

You huffed, breaking under the weight of it, your voice coming out quieter than you meant. “Yeah. Fine. Yes, Joel. I’m attracted to you. Happy?”

He nodded once, the movement slow and deliberate. His eyes softened just enough to make your chest tighten, though his expression remained unreadable. “Good,” he murmured.

You bit your lip, a nervous laugh escaping before you could stop it. “What?” you asked, trying to fill the charged silence. “You needed that for your ego or something?”

Joel shook his head, his lips curving into the faintest smile, though there was something different about it this time. Something shy, almost unsure. “No,” he said quietly. “Just… wanted to know.”

Your heart tripped over itself at the simplicity of his words, and you shifted slightly, your fingers twisting in the hem of your shirt.

The question tumbled out before you could stop it, your voice barely above a whisper. “Are you… attracted to me?”

For a moment, Joel didn’t answer. He just stared at you, the silence stretching unbearably as something flickered across his face—something you couldn’t quite place.

“Yeah,” he said finally, the single syllable carrying enough weight to knock the air from your lungs. His voice was low, gravelly, and sure. “Yeah, I am.”

Your chest tightened as Joel leaned in slightly, his hand braced against the mattress, his movements deliberate yet hesitant. His dark eyes flicked to your lips for the briefest moment before snapping back to meet your gaze.

Joel’s voice broke the silence, low and quiet, almost like he didn’t want to scare the moment away. “Thought it was pretty obvious,” he said, his lips twitching into a soft, self-conscious smile as a quiet laugh escaped him.

The sound made your chest ache, the vulnerability in it catching you off guard. He shifted slightly, leaning back just a fraction as if he was giving you space to breathe.

“Anyways,” he murmured, his tone softening even more, “it’s late. You should get some sleep.”

You blinked, your heart still racing as the tension eased, replaced by something warmer, gentler. Joel’s eyes lingered on you for a beat longer, like he was trying to memorize your face, the curve of your lips, the way the moonlight painted your skin.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the room dark and still except for the soft sound of Joel’s breathing beside you. He was sound asleep, his features softened in a way that almost felt unfair.

His brow, usually furrowed with intensity or mischief, was relaxed. His lips, so often curled into a smirk that drove you crazy, now rested in a slight, peaceful curve. He looked so sweet, so angelic, nothing like the devil he became when he was awake and teasing you mercilessly.

Your eyes lingered on the way his dark lashes fanned against his cheeks, the steady rise and fall of his chest as the light sheet barely covered him. His hair was messy, slightly tousled, the curls resting against his forehead. He looked younger like this—soft, unguarded, and warm.

You sighed softly, your chest tightening as the weight of his earlier admission settled over you. The honesty in his words had left a crack in your defenses, and now, staring at him like this, you couldn’t help but wonder if he realized just how completely he’d unraveled you.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, squeezing your eyes shut as if that would erase the ache in your loin. You shifted under the covers, restless, your body betraying you at every turn. Joel’s antics earlier—the damn lap dance, his relentless teasing, his towel slipping, the dip of his hips, his cock. Jesus, his cock.

You pressed your thighs together, heat blooming between them as the memory of it all replayed in vivid detail. And now, lying here in the dark with him just inches away, asleep and completely unaware of the havoc he’d wreaked on your mind and body, it felt unbearable.

Needy. That’s what you were. Completely, hopelessly needy. And it was all Joel’s fault.

Padding out into the quiet living room, you sank onto the couch, curling your legs beneath you as the cool leather met your skin. The room was dim, illuminated only by the soft glow of your phone as you scrolled aimlessly, searching for a distraction that could ease the tension winding tightly through your chest—and lower. But nothing seemed to work.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t hear the soft pad of footsteps until they were right behind you.

“Hey,” Joel’s voice came, low and rough from sleep, and it made your pulse skip. You turned to see him rubbing at his eyes, his hair even messier now, sticking up in disheveled tufts that only added to his boyish charm.

He was barefoot, the hem of his sweatpants riding low on his hips, and his shirt hung lazily over one shoulder, revealing the toned expanse of his chest.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, his voice softer now as he stepped closer, the faint rasp of sleep still clinging to it.

You swallowed, dropping your phone into your lap as you sighed. “No,” you admitted, your voice quiet. “Sorry for waking you.”

Joel shook his head, plopping down beside you on the couch with a small, tired groan. “You didn’t wake me,” he murmured, though you could tell he was lying. The slight squint of his eyes and the tousled mess of his hair gave him away.

He glanced at the clock on the wall, squinting slightly in the dim light. “It’s 1 a.m.,” he said, his lips curving into that familiar lopsided smile. “You’ve been up this whole time?”

You shrugged, pulling your legs up to your chest. “Just couldn’t fall asleep.”

Joel leaned back against the couch, studying you for a moment. His gaze, still heavy-lidded from sleep, softened as it swept over your face. “Hey,” he said after a beat, his voice lighter now, teasing as he nudged your knee with his hand. “I got an idea.”

You raised an eyebrow, immediately suspicious. “Oh, no. What kind of idea?”

Joel’s grin widened, the kind of mischievous, devil-may-care smile that made your stomach flip in the worst—or maybe the best—way. “One that involves changin’ into your swimsuit,” he said, his voice low and coaxing, his Southern drawl making the suggestion sound almost innocent. Almost.

You blinked, heat rushing to your face. “Joel…”

“Come on,” he said, standing up and holding out his hand. His grin softened, something gentler lurking beneath the teasing. “Trust me. I’ll wait.”

You hesitated, glancing from his outstretched hand to his face, your heart racing for reasons you couldn’t quite name. But there was something in his expression—a quiet steadiness behind the playfulness—that made it impossible to say no.

With a small sigh, you slipped your hand into his, his palm warm and solid against yours. “This better not be one of your bad ideas,” you murmured.

Joel chuckled, tugging you gently to your feet. “Oh, it’s definitely bad,” he drawled, his grin flashing again. “But you’ll love it.”

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

Not long after, you found yourself padding down the resort’s quiet, dimly lit hallway, Joel leading the way with his hand wrapped around yours. His grip was warm and steady, entirely unnecessary but impossibly reassuring. You didn’t dare pull away. The gentle pressure of his fingers against yours sent a thrill up your arm, a sensation you tried—and utterly failed—to ignore.

Joel walked confidently ahead, his bare chest catching the faint glow of the overhead lights. His swim shorts hung low on his hips, his relaxed stride exuding an effortless confidence. Beside him, you felt the cool air against your skin, the bikini you’d hastily thrown on feeling all the more revealing in the stillness of the night.

“Joel, this is insane,” you whispered, glancing nervously over your shoulder. “We’re gonna get in trouble.”

He stopped abruptly, turning to face you with that infuriatingly cocky grin that made your stomach flip. “Hey,” he said, his voice low and warm as he tilted his head, his hair still charmingly messy. “We’re payin’—” He paused, his smirk widening as he corrected himself. “Actually, Tommy’s payin’ a shit ton of money to be here. If we wanna use the pool at 1 a.m., we’re gonna use the damn pool at 1 a.m.”

You sighed, a blend of amusement and exasperation bubbling to the surface as you reluctantly let him pull you along. “This feels like a terrible idea.”

Joel glanced back at you, his grin sharp and teasing under the dim glow of the resort lights. “The best ones always do.” His thumb brushed against your knuckles, a small, almost thoughtless gesture, but one that sent a ripple of warmth up your arm. The air was thick with the scent of salt and hibiscus, the soft rustle of palm fronds above only amplifying the quiet intimacy of the moment.

Joel pushed open the gate to the infinity pool with a soft creak, holding it open as his hand tightened briefly on yours, guiding you through before letting it close behind you with a gentle clang.

And then your breath caught.

The infinity pool stretched out before you, its surface still as glass, shimmering under the silver caress of moonlight. It was a vision of serenity and magic, the water reflecting the stars like liquid silk.

Subtle underwater lights glowed in hues of soft blue and white, their faint ripples casting dancing patterns onto the surrounding tiles.

Beyond the pool’s edge, the dark expanse of the ocean stretched into infinity, its gentle waves blending seamlessly with the star-strewn sky.

The world felt quieter here, as if the night itself had conspired to create this pocket of intimacy, a secret space carved out just for the two of you.

Joel stepped up beside you, his hand slipping from yours at last, leaving behind a fleeting chill you weren’t ready for. “See?” he said, his voice low and reverent, like he didn’t want to disturb the stillness. “Told ya it’s even better at night.”

The pool lights cast a gentle glow across the water, the soft hues of blue and silver rippling over his skin. Shadows played along the strong lines of his shoulders, the curve of his chest, and the defined cut of his back, every movement a study in quiet power.

The faint shimmer of moonlight danced against the tan of his skin, and for a moment, he looked almost otherworldly—like something pulled straight out of your imagination.

Joel took a step into the water, the muscles in his legs flexing as he descended. He turned to you, his smirk fading into something softer, more inviting. “You comin’ in, or what?” His voice was low, coaxing, with an edge of something that sent heat straight to your core.

You swallowed, the warmth rising to your cheeks undeniable as you tried—and failed—not to linger on the way the water lapped at his waist, highlighting every inch of him. “Yeah… yeah, I’m coming,” you murmured, your voice betraying the flutter in your chest.

Joel didn’t move, just stood there in the water, his eyes fixed on you. His gaze was steady, quiet, as though he was waiting for something. The faintest curve of a smile tugged at his lips, and then he extended a hand toward you. “C’mon,” he said softly, the words like a thread pulling you closer. “Water’s perfect.”

You took his hand, his grip warm and steady as he guided you into the pool. The water lapped at your skin, cool and refreshing, sending a soft shiver through you as it rose higher. Joel’s fingers lingered a moment longer than necessary before he let go, and you floated alongside him, both drifting naturally toward the edge of the infinity pool.

Joel leaned forward, resting his forearms on the edge of the pool. His hair, slicked back from the water, caught the faint glow of the underwater lights, droplets clinging to his tanned skin and glinting like tiny jewels.

His expression was unguarded, almost boyish, as he let out a soft sigh. “Shit,” he murmured, his voice carrying the weight of quiet sincerity. “This might be the best trip of my life.”

You turned your head toward him, his words settling warmly in your chest like a flicker of something you didn’t quite want to name. “Me too,” you admitted softly, your voice barely audible over the gentle lapping of the water.

Joel glanced at you then, his gaze lingering a moment too long, his eyes searching yours as if trying to piece together the thoughts you weren’t saying.

“So,” he said finally, breaking the silence, his voice lighter now but laced with something deeper. “Why couldn’t you sleep?”

The question hung in the air, far too close to the truth. Your heart stuttered as you turned your gaze back to the water, the soft glow of the pool lights casting ripples of light across your skin.

How could you possibly admit it? That Joel’s lap dance, his teasing, his cock—all of it—had left you restless, needy, and completely unable to quiet your racing thoughts.

“Not sure,” you murmured, shrugging and avoiding his eyes, your voice quieter than you intended.

Joel’s eyes narrowed slightly, a sly smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Oh, come on,” he said, his voice low and teasing, yet laced with something that sent a shiver down your spine. “Usually, you’re out like a light. Somethin’s on your mind.”

Your heart raced, your defenses crumbling under the weight of his gaze. “I told you,” you muttered, forcing a casual shrug. “I just couldn’t sleep.”

Joel tilted his head, studying you like he was working out a puzzle, his grin turning downright devilish. He leaned in slightly, his elbow braced on the edge of the pool, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Shit,” he drawled, his tone equal parts teasing and dangerous. “Baby… are you…” He paused, letting the question linger as his grin widened. “…horny?”

Your breath caught in your throat, your face heating instantly. “Joel!” you hissed, your voice a mixture of indignation and mortification as you swatted at his arm. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

He laughed, low and rich, leaning back just enough to let you breathe but not enough to create distance. His grin was positively wicked, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement. “What?” he said, feigning innocence. “Just tryin’ to help. Look me in the eye and tell me I’m wrong.”

You bit your lip, your gaze darting to his before skittering away again, the tension coiling tighter in your chest. “You’re wrong,” you said, forcing the words out, but your voice wavered, betraying you.

Joel’s grin didn’t falter. If anything, it softened slightly, turning into something warmer, more disarming. “Darlin’,” he said, his tone low and coaxing, “you’re the worst liar I’ve ever met.”

Your eyes darted to his chest—broad and glistening under the soft glow of the pool lights—and lingered for just a second too long. When you realized what you’d done, you quickly looked away, cursing yourself internally.

He chuckled, the sound quieter now, almost fond as he shook his head. “Christ, girly,” he murmured, his voice dipping even lower. “When’s the last time you had sex?”

You groaned, looking away as your cheeks burned. “Joel, I’m not answering that.”

“Oh, you are,” he said, his grin still firmly in place. “C’mon, I’m dyin’ here.”

When you stayed quiet, Joel’s teasing softened just slightly. “Seriously,” he said, his voice more curious now, less playful. “When?”

You sighed, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “Fine. Like… eight months ago.”

Joel froze, his eyes widening as he turned to fully face you. “What?” he choked, the disbelief in his voice almost comical. “Are you serious?”

You nodded, your gaze still fixed on the ocean, but the heat in your cheeks betrayed you. “Yeah.”

Joel ran a hand through his wet hair, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “Eight months?” he repeated, his voice quieter now. “Shit, darlin’… how have you not lost your mind?”

You let out a small laugh despite yourself, turning to look at him. “It’s not that big of a deal, Joel.”

“Right,” he said, a teasing grin tugging at his lips. “Because you got your little toy.”

Your face burned as you groaned, shooting him a glare. “I regret ever telling you about that.”

Joel chuckled, leaning his elbow on the pool’s edge as he turned to face you fully, his grin widening. “Hey, I’m just sayin’. No shame in it,. Gotta take care of yourself somehow.”

“Joel,” you muttered, pressing your hands to your face. “Please stop.”

He held up his hands, mock surrender in his posture. “Alright, alright, I’ll behave.” A pause, and then, with a tilt of his head, he added, “Seriously, though—why not?”

“Why not what?” you asked, looking at him warily.

Joel shrugged, his tone lighter but edged with genuine curiosity. “Why not just… y’know, find someone? It’s been eight months.” His gaze swept over you, slow and deliberate, his voice softening. “Look at you. You could have anyone you wanted.”

You sighed, your fingers skimming the water’s surface as you avoided his gaze. “Joel, some of us can’t just have casual sex with people.”

“Hey,” he said, his voice dipping lower as his expression shifted, a flicker of something serious passing through his eyes. “What makes you think I can?”

You looked at him, surprised by the sudden change in his tone. “Well… I just assumed.”

Joel leaned back slightly, his lips pressing into a thin line as he shook his head. “I don’t just go sleepin’ around with everyone, you know.”

Your eyes widened, heat rushing to your cheeks. “I didn’t mean it like that,” you said quickly. “I just meant… I don’t know. You seem like you’re more… experienced than me.”

Joel raised an eyebrow, his grin softening into something closer to a smirk. “More experienced?” he repeated, the teasing lilt back in his voice. “What’s that supposed to mean, huh?”

You groaned again, burying your face in your hands. “It means exactly what it sounds like, okay? You’re Joel. You’re… confident and flirty and… you. I figured you’d have had more… practice.”

He laughed, the sound low and warm, and when you peeked at him through your fingers, he was shaking his head, his grin softening even further. “just because I know how to flirt doesn’t mean I’m out here sleepin’ with every pretty face I meet.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his honesty. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” he said, his gaze meeting yours, steady and sincere. “Truth is, I don’t do casual either. Never really been my thing.” He shrugged, his tone lightening again as he added, “Not that I haven’t tried, but… I guess I’m picky.”

“Picky?” you repeated, your lips twitching into a small smile.

“Yeah,” Joel said with a casual shrug, though the faint smirk tugging at his lips betrayed him. “When I was younger, I guess I was more… free, you know? Didn’t think too hard about it. But now…” He trailed off, his gaze dipping briefly before locking back onto yours, a flicker of something deeper in his eyes.

“Now, I gotta have a connection with someone before I…” He smirked, his voice dropping lower as he added, “…rock their world.”

Your laugh burst out before you could stop it, a sound somewhere between amusement and disbelief. “Oh, my God, Joel.”

His grin widened, and he leaned back against the pool’s edge, his arms stretching out to rest along the tiles. “What?” he said, feigning innocence. “Just tellin’ it like it is.”

You shook your head, the laugh still lingering on your lips as you looked at him. “You’re impossible.”

“Nah,” Joel said softly, his tone shifting just enough to catch you off guard. “You’ve got a nice laugh.”

Your smile faltered for a beat, your heart skipping at the sincerity in his voice. “Smooth operator,” you replied, raising an eyebrow at him, trying to keep things light.

Joel shrugged, his grin softening. “I mean it,” he said, his voice quiet but sure, his gaze steady on yours.

You bit your lip without thinking, a nervous habit you’d had forever, and Joel’s gaze flicked down to catch the motion. Something shifted in his expression, his smirk faltering just slightly as his brow furrowed, his voice a low mumble when he finally spoke. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” you asked, your voice softer now, the air between you thick with unspoken tension.

Joel shook his head slightly, his lips twitching into a faint smile, but there was something darker in his eyes, something restrained, like he was fighting an internal battle.

The moment stretched, the sound of the waves crashing below blending with the quiet hum of the night. And then—like the universe had a sense of humor—your bikini top came undone, the tie at the back slipping free.

“Shit,” you gasped, clutching the front of your top against your chest to keep it in place. Your eyes widened as you looked at Joel, your heart hammering for a whole new reason now. “Joel,” you whispered, motioning toward your back. “Can you… can you tie me up?”

His gaze flicked to yours, his lips curving into a slow, wicked grin. “And if I didn’t?” he teased, his voice low and dripping with amusement.

“Joel!” you hissed, glaring at him as your cheeks burned, your grip tightening on the loose fabric against your chest. “I’m serious!”

Joel tilted his head, his smirk growing as he treaded water, the glow from the pool lights casting shadows across his face. “What?” he teased, his voice low and playful. “You never skinny dip before?”

Your jaw dropped at his audacity. “No!” you replied, your voice sharp, though the heat rushing to your cheeks made you feel anything but confident.

“Seriously?” he said, his tone shifting into something bordering on incredulous. He let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Damn, you haven’t lived, girlie.”

“Joel,” you said again, your voice dropping into something softer, more pleading, but he wasn’t backing down.

“Alright,” he said finally, his voice dipping lower, coaxing now. “Turn around.”

You hesitated, your pulse hammering in your chest, but his gaze held steady, warm yet unrelenting. With a sigh, you did as he asked, your back to him, the ocean stretching out into the night as the breeze brushed against your skin.

The sound of the water rippling around him reached your ears, and then you felt his hands—gentle, careful—as they brushed your back. His fingers worked deftly, the lightest graze of his knuckles against your bare skin making your breath hitch.

“Hold still,” Joel murmured, his voice low and intimate, the warmth of it wrapping around you. He finished tying the knot with ease, but he didn’t step back.

You stayed frozen, facing the endless horizon, when you felt it—the unmistakable weight of his hand settling lightly on your hips, his touch firm but not overbearing. His breath, warm and steady, ghosted against the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Joel…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, your heart thundering in your chest.

His grip tightened slightly, grounding you as he leaned in closer, his lips so near that you could feel the faintest brush of them as he spoke. “When,” Joel murmured, his voice low and rough, “was the last time a man made you cum?”

You froze, your breath catching as the question hung in the air, the intimacy of his tone cutting through the quiet night like a blade. Your fingers dug into the edge of the pool, your mind racing as every nerve in your body seemed to ignite at once.

“Joel…” you whispered again, though this time, it wasn’t a protest. It was something softer, needier, like your voice betrayed the thoughts swirling in your head.

He didn’t move, his hand steady on your hips, his fingers pressing just enough to make you hyperaware of every place he touched you. His breath, warm and steady, ghosted over your neck, and you swore the heat of it sank into your skin, making your pulse race.

“I—” you stammered, trying to steady yourself, trying to form words despite the way your heart thundered in your chest. “I told you. Eight months ago was the last time I had sex—”

Joel cut you off, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. “I didn’t ask the last time you had sex,” he murmured, his words deliberate, each one like a spark against your already frayed nerves. “I asked when the last time a man made you cum.”

Your breath faltered, your stomach flipping as the weight of his question settled between you. You felt exposed, laid bare in a way you weren’t prepared for. “I…” you started, your voice catching. “I don’t… I don’t remember.”

Joel went still behind you, his grip on your hips tightening ever so slightly as his breath hitched, barely audible. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, the word low and soft, like it wasn’t meant for you to hear.

You swallowed hard, your chest rising and falling with each shaky breath. The truth was out there now, raw and vulnerable, and you didn’t know what to do with it. Your hands gripped the edge of the pool for balance, the cool water lapping against your skin doing nothing to calm the heat building between you.

“Eight months,” Joel murmured again, his voice tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. His hand shifted slightly, the movement subtle but enough to make your breath hitch.

You could feel him now, the unmistakable press of his body against your back, solid and warm. “And not once…” He trailed off, exhaling sharply before he leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “…not once did a man know what to do with you?”

“Joel,” you whispered, your voice trembling, his name catching in your throat. It was a plea, though you couldn’t tell if it was for him to stop or to keep going. Every inch of you felt alive, your senses overloaded by the heat of his breath, the weight of his hands, the raw intensity of the moment.

Slowly, Joel turned you around, his hands guiding your movements like he was in complete control. Your gaze locked onto his, and your breath caught at the sight of him.

His hair was tousled, damp from the pool and catching faintly in the light. His eyes burned with something raw, unrelenting, and entirely consuming. He looked angelic, like a man shaped by the heavens but sent to ruin you—and you felt like you were teetering on the edge of insanity just looking at him.

His voice broke through the haze, low and quiet, but laced with an intensity that made your stomach twist. “Were you wet when you went to bed?”

Your heart stopped, your pulse roaring in your ears as his words hung between you, heavy and deliberate. “Joel…” you managed, your voice cracking as your mind scrambled to keep up. “What are you doing?”

“You heard me,” he said, his tone soft but firm, his breath brushing against your cheek as he leaned closer. His fingers lifted to your chin, tilting your face up so you couldn’t look anywhere but at him. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and unwavering, and you felt utterly exposed under his gaze. “Answer me.”

Your breath hitched, your chest rising and falling as the truth clawed its way out of you, unbidden. “Yes,” you whispered, barely audible, but Joel caught it. “I was.”

Joel’s lips quirked into the faintest smirk, but there was something almost tender beneath it, something that made your knees weak. “That so?” he murmured, his thumb brushing along your jaw as he studied your face, his voice dipping lower, rougher. “And you didn’t think to do anything about it?”

Your cheeks burned, the heat of his words and the sheer audacity of the moment leaving you reeling. “I—” you stammered, unable to form a coherent thought, let alone a response.

Joel tsked softly, shaking his head as his gaze lingered on yours. “Darlin’,” he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine, “what am I gonna do with you?”

The question wasn’t meant to be answered—it was a statement, a challenge, and it hung in the air between you, thick and charged. His hand stayed on your chin, his thumb brushing softly over your bottom lip, the motion feather-light but enough to make your breath catch.

Your head dropped slightly, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. “We can’t, Joel,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Why?” he asked, his tone steady, curious rather than insistent.

You exhaled shakily, searching for the right words. “Because it’ll… it’ll make things weird for the rest of the trip. It’ll ruin the engagement.”

Joel studied you, his thumb pausing on your lip before he let his hand drop, though his gaze never wavered. He nodded slowly, his jaw tightening as he listened. “Alright,” he said softly, his voice gentle. “I hear you.”

His words felt like a lifeline and a loss all at once. Relief mingled with a strange ache in your chest as you dared to glance at him. His expression was unreadable, a mixture of restraint and something deeper that you couldn’t quite name.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to,” Joel said simply, his voice low and sure, his words laced with an unspoken promise. He leaned back slightly, giving you space, though his eyes still held yours. “But… I’ll say this much.” His lips curved into a faint, wry smile. “It’s a damn shame you’re goin’ to bed needy every night when I’m right next to ya.”

Your heart stuttered, your body betraying you as his words sent a spark of heat racing through you. You shook your head, trying to push the thoughts away, but the weight of his gaze pinned you in place, making it impossible to ignore the truth simmering between you.

“You’re so sweet,” Joel murmured, his voice low, rough, and laced with something softer, something that made your stomach flip. His hand, still resting lightly on your chin, tilted your face back up, coaxing your eyes to meet his.

You looked at him, your breath hitching as your gaze flicked—just for a moment—to his lips. Joel’s gaze was heavy, dark, and unrelenting, and his voice came low, steady, and utterly devastating. “Did you bring it with you?” he asked.

“What?” you whispered, thrown off by the sudden question.

“Your toy,” he clarified, his eyes locked onto yours like he could see right through you.

Your cheeks burned, and you shook your head quickly. “No,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel nodded slowly, his lips curving into a faint, knowing smirk. “So,” he drawled, leaning in just slightly, “you were beside me all wet and needy, huh?”

Your heart stopped, your stomach flipping as his words sank in. “Joel, this is insane,” you murmured, your voice trembling with equal parts disbelief and something darker, something you didn’t want to name.

“You already admitted it,” he said, his voice warm but laced with that maddening edge of confidence. “Didn’t you?”

“Yes,” you breathed, the word falling from your lips before you could stop it.

He nodded again, his gaze never leaving yours, his voice dropping even lower. “So… were you gonna touch yourself?”

“What?” you asked, your eyes widening.

“Were you?” Joel repeated, his tone calm, deliberate, but the weight of his question hung in the air, crackling between you. “With me next to you, asleep? Were you gonna take care of yourself?”

You shook your head quickly, the honesty spilling out before your brain could catch up. “No,” you said, your voice soft, trembling.

Joel tilted his head, his smirk softening into something almost tender, though the heat in his eyes remained. “Poor girl,” he murmured, his tone turning to a low coo that sent shivers down your spine. “No wonder you couldn’t sleep. Just need someone to take care of you, huh?”

He leaned in closer, his hand brushing against your hip as his lips curved into a slow, deliberate smile. “Wonder if I was to touch you right now…” he murmured, his voice rough and quiet, like a secret just for you. “If you’d be ready for me.”

“Joel…” It was as if it was the only word you knew, the only one you could form, and the way you said it—soft, trembling, and utterly breathless—made his expression darken further.

His hand lifted to your chin again, his thumb brushing lightly against your jaw as he whispered, “Can I?”

The question was low, rough, and full of restrained hunger, but there was a softness in his tone, a thread of care that made your chest ache. He wasn’t pushing—he was waiting. And the way he looked at you, the way his gaze held yours, made it clear that you held all the power in this moment.

Your breath hitched, your chest rising and falling as the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you, the ocean, the night, and the question hanging between you like a live wire.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea. What if it… what if it makes things weird?”

“It won’t,” he said simply, his voice low and sure, like he’d already thought through every possibility. “You’re overthinkin’ it. I just wanna help you feel good.”

“It’s not that simple,” you said, shaking your head, though even as the words left your lips, they felt weak, as though you didn’t quite believe them yourself.

“Why can’t it be?” Joel countered, his tone gentle but firm, his eyes searching yours with a steady intensity that made it impossible to look away. “Not everything has to be complicated, darlin’.”

You swallowed hard, your gaze flickering between his eyes and the curve of his lips. “We don’t have to do anything,” he added, his hand lifting to brush a damp strand of hair from your face. “But I can see it in your eyes—you don’t trust men anymore, do you?” His lips quirked into a small, teasing smile, though there was a softness in his voice that made your chest ache. “Let me help restore your faith a little.”

You let out a shaky laugh, though it came out more like a breathless exhale. “What, by making me cum?”

Joel’s smile deepened, his hand resting lightly on your waist as he leaned in, his voice dropping to a murmur. “That what you want?”

Your heart pounded as you stared at him, the heat in his gaze stealing the air from your lungs. “Didn’t you say every woman you sleep with does?” you asked, your words coming out bolder than you felt.

He nodded slowly, his eyes darkening as his thumb brushed along the curve of your hip. “You wanna put it to the test?” he asked, his voice low and rough, the challenge in his tone sending a shiver through you.

The way he was looking at you—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered—made your chest tighten, your resolve crumbling with every second. He looked delicious. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but give in.

“Fuck it,” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. Your hands shot up to grab his face, pulling him toward you, your lips crashing into his.

Joel didn’t hesitate. He kissed you back with a force that left you reeling, his hands immediately finding your waist as he pushed you back against the smooth edge of the infinity pool. The sound of water rushing over the edge was drowned out by the pounding of your heart as you pressed yourself against him, desperate, frantic, consumed.

His hands were rough as they slid along your sides, pulling you closer, grounding you even as everything around you seemed to spin. His lips were warm, insistent, and he tasted faintly of the tequila you’d both shared earlier. It was intoxicating, the way he devoured you, like he couldn’t get enough, like he’d been waiting for this as long as you had.

You gasped against his mouth as his fingers dug into your hips, his body pressing firmly against yours, his heat searing even through the cool water.

“Shit,” he murmured, his voice rough and breathless. His eyes burned into yours, dark and unrelenting. “Gotta taste you.”

The words knocked the air out of you, leaving you blinking at him in stunned silence. Before you could even process what he’d said, Joel’s hands were on you, gripping your thighs as he turned you toward the entrance of the pool. With a firm but careful tug, he lifted you, placing you on the cool stone ledge so your legs dangled over the edge, the water still lapping at your calves.

“Joel,” you breathed, your voice shaky as you propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him with wide eyes.

He stood in the water, the faint glow of the pool lights illuminating the sharp lines of his face and the damp mess of his hair. His gaze never left yours as he pushed his slick hair back, his movements slow and deliberate, like he was savoring the moment. “Lay back,” he urged, his voice low and commanding, yet soft enough to make your pulse stutter.

“What?” Your eyebrows shot up, your heart pounding as your gaze darted between him and the vast openness of the pool deck around you. “Here?!”

“Yes, here,” Joel replied without hesitation, his tone steady but edged with amusement, like he found your disbelief charming. His hands slid up your thighs, gripping them just enough to send another spark of heat through you. “Ain’t no one around, darlin’.”

“Joel,” you hissed, glancing toward the resort, your mind racing. “We’re gonna get arrested.”

He chuckled softly, his grin widening as he leaned in closer, his hands still resting on your thighs. “We won’t. Trust me,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower, almost a purr. “Now, lay back.”

“Fuck,” you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment before letting out a shaky breath and lowering yourself onto the cool stone. Your head rested against the ledge, the night sky stretching out above you, stars dotting the inky black canvas.

“Good girl,” Joel murmured, his voice softer now, almost reverent. His hands coaxed you down gently, sliding you closer to the edge until your hips hovered just above the water. “Shuffle down a bit. That’s it… just like that.”

Your body moved instinctively, following his instructions even as your mind screamed about the sheer insanity of what was happening. The cool air brushed against your skin, making you shiver, but Joel’s hands—warm, rough, and steady—kept you grounded.

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that somehow managed to soothe and ignite you at the same time. “I’ve got you.” Your heart pounded as you swallowed hard, the tension between you crackling like a live wire. Joel’s lips quirked into a faint, teasing grin. “All you gotta do,” he continued, his tone soft and coaxing, “is lay there and look pretty. You’re doin’ just fine.”

You sighed, a mix of nerves and anticipation, as his hands began to move. They slid slowly, deliberately, from your thighs to the thin ties of your bikini at your hips. His fingers worked with maddening precision, untying one side, then the other, the slow drag of the fabric against your skin making your breath hitch.

“Joel…” you started, your voice shaking as the last barrier slipped away, leaving you bare beneath him.

He paused, glancing up at you with a teasing glint in his eye. “Yeah, darlin’?”

“I swear to God,” you hissed, glancing toward the pool deck, “if someone sees us—”

“Shh,” he interrupted, his voice a whisper that carried more weight than it should have. His lips brushed against the inside of your thigh, a soft, deliberate kiss that made your breath catch. “Stop worrying,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, “and let me take care of ya.”

Before you could respond, he hooked both of your legs over his shoulders, his hands gripping your hips to steady you. The cool night air brushed against your bare skin.

“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” Joel murmured, his voice soft but laced with his signature teasing edge. His gaze swept over you, slow and deliberate, the weight of it making you feel completely exposed in a way that sent heat rushing through you. “All this fussin’, but here you are, lettin’ me do this anyway.”

But then, to your surprise, he didn’t move. His hands rested firmly on your thighs, his gaze locked onto your bare cunt like he was savoring the moment, drawing it out. The pause stretched too long, and suddenly, the self-consciousness crept in. You started to close your legs, your body instinctively pulling inward.

“Don’t you dare,” Joel said sharply, his voice low but firm, and the command in it made your breath hitch.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, your voice uncertain as you pushed yourself up onto your elbows to look at him. The way his gaze burned into you made your stomach twist, the heat in his eyes almost overwhelming.

“Nothing,” Joel said, his voice quieter now, almost reverent. “I just… shit.” His hands tightened on your thighs as he shook his head slightly, his lips twitching into a faint, crooked smile. “I wish you could see yourself, baby. Drippin’ for me.”

Your breath caught, your entire body going still at his words. He hadn’t even properly touched you yet, and the ache between your legs was unbearable. As if he could read your mind, his eyes flicked to back your core, and he chuckled low, rough, and entirely too confident.

“Christ,” he muttered, his voice roughening as he watched you clench around nothing. “Really haven’t been fucked good in a while, huh? Damn shame.”

Your lips parted, ready to scold him for the audacity, but before you could get a single word out, Joel dove in. His mouth was on you, his beard brushing against your thighs, and the sensation sent a jolt of electricity shooting through your entire body.

“Oh my God!” you shrieked, your head falling back against the cool stone as your hands flew to his hair instinctively. The mix of his rough beard and the soft, deliberate way his tongue moved against you was overwhelming, like he knew exactly how to unravel you piece by piece.

Joel hummed against you, the low vibration sending shockwaves through your body as his hands gripped your hips, holding you firmly in place. “Taste even better than I imagined,” he murmured against your skin, his voice rough and muffled, his words brimming with that maddening, casual confidence. It would’ve made you roll your eyes if you weren’t already halfway undone.

Then one of his hands moved, his thumb brushing slow, devastating circles over your clit, and you nearly screamed, your back arching as the pleasure hit you like a tidal wave.

“Baby,” Joel murmured, his voice teasing yet commanding, “you’re gonna get us caught. And then,” he added with a smirk, his lips curving against your skin, “you’re gonna break my streak.”

You gasped, your breath trembling as you gripped the stone ledge for support, every nerve in your body alight. “Joel, you’re so good… shit,” you breathed, your voice faltering as his movements quickened, relentless and precise.

Joel didn’t answer, didn’t stop to tease. He just growled against you, the deep sound reverberating through your core as he devoured you like a starving man who’d been waiting for this moment forever. His lips, his tongue, the rough scrape of his beard—it was too much and not enough all at once.

“Joel, I’m close,” you gasped, your voice trembling as your hands scrambled for something, anything, to anchor yourself, but the smooth stone beneath you offered no reprieve. Your body was suspended in pure sensation, trembling on the edge.

“Shit, baby,” Joel muttered, pulling back for just a second to bite gently at the inside of your thigh, his teeth sending sparks of pain-tinged pleasure racing through you. “That was easy.” And then he was back, relentless and hungry.

Your breath hitched, and all you could do was gasp his name. “Oh… oh, I’m gonna—Joel, I’m gonna cum—fuck!” The words tore from your throat as the pleasure crashed over you, your body trembling violently as waves of heat and release consumed you. Your legs clamped around his head involuntarily, your body overwhelmed as you rode the high, every nerve sparking like wildfire.

Joel didn’t let up. His tongue moved with practiced precision, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure until your body was nothing but sensation. You whimpered, your hands flying to his hair, tugging desperately. “Joel,” you gasped, your voice trembling. “Stop—please, it’s too much.”

Still, his lips lingered, a soft, satisfied hum vibrating against you before he finally pulled back, but not without one last, languid stroke of his tongue that left your entire body trembling.

His eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, fixed on you like you were a masterpiece he wasn’t finished admiring. Slowly, deliberately, he swiped his bottom lip with his thumb, his gaze unwavering as if he were savoring every second of your unraveling.

Then, with a tenderness that felt almost out of place after the intensity of what had just passed, he leaned back in, brushing the lightest, most deliberate kiss against your swollen, sensitive clit. Your body jolted, a shiver rippling through you that made your breath hitch audibly.

“So damn sweet,” Joel murmured, his voice low, husky, and dripping with reverence, like it was a secret only he was privileged to know.

Finally, with a satisfied hum, Joel pulled back, his lips and beard glistening as he pushed himself out of the pool and collapsed beside you on the cool stone. His chest heaved as he caught his breath, a cocky grin spreading across his face as he glanced over at you.

You stared at him, your vision hazy, your body still humming from the aftershocks. He looked insane—angelic, even—his hair damp and tousled, his lips swollen and wet, his grin entirely too pleased with himself.

“Shit,” you murmured, your voice barely a whisper.

Joel propped himself up on one elbow, his grin widening. “How’d I do?” he asked, his tone teasing but laced with genuine pride.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you grabbed his face and pulled him into a kiss, your lips crashing against his as you moaned softly into his mouth, tasting yourself on him. His hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, his thumb brushing over your skin in slow, lazy circles.

After a moment, you broke the kiss, your lips brushing against his as you whispered, “Too good.”

Joel chuckled, his grin widening as you reached for your bikini bottoms, slipping them back on as you tried to gather yourself. You opened your mouth to say something, but a sudden, blinding flashlight beam broke through the tension.

“Hey! Who’s there?” a loud voice yelled, the beam swinging toward you.

Your eyes widened in panic, but Joel just laughed, the sound low and warm as he grabbed your hand. “Shit,” he murmured, his grin turning wicked as he whispered, “Run.”

Before you could protest, Joel was pulling you to your feet, his hand tight around yours as the two of you sprinted away, your laughter bubbling out of you uncontrollably.

The heavy footsteps of the security guard pounded behind you, and Joel’s low chuckle filled your ears as he led you through the resort, ducking around corners and weaving between palm trees.

“You’re insane!” you hissed between gasps of laughter, your hand tightening in his as you glanced back at the guard, who was struggling to keep up.

“You love it!” Joel shot back, his grin wide as he glanced over his shoulder, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

By the time you finally collapsed behind a cluster of bushes, both of you out of breath and laughing, you couldn’t help but think that this might just be the best night of your life.

TAG LIST!!

@melsunshine @brittmb115 @honey-dip-24 @ppascalrain @laliceee

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@maryfanson @romanoffthreal @boinkybarness @rosebuds-and-moonlight @quicax3 @flawssy-227

[smutcentralx]

TRUTH OR DARE| mark grayson(invincible!) x F reader

MASTERLIST

warnings: smut with little plot , party, truth or dare, alcohol mention, childhood friends to fuck buddies (headcannon)

a/n: i see u guys liked my mark headcannons :p. this was supposed to be a headcannon but i got carried away. more work otw soonnn i see the requests hehehehe

“Alright truth or dare”. Your stomach twisted when you realized it was your turn to answer. You, mark, eve, rex, amber and william sat in a circle playing the dumbest game ever.

“Guys i really don’t want to play like seriously”. You huffed out and rolled your eyes.

“Y/n cmon..unless you have something to hide”. Eve was 100% challenging you and you obviously bit the bait. Mark stayed quite as he eyed you from the corner of his eyes, he was also secretly hoping you play.

“Hm alright i’ll bite..dare”. You knew they were expecting you to choose truth so you chose dare. “Wow get a load of this girl right here”. Rex said as he rolled around laughing holding his stomach.

“Alright, alright so y/n since you did choose dare..i dare you to play seven minutes in heaven withhh mark”. Eve snickered softly knowing damn well you would refuse.

It was either refuse and take your 8th shot of the night or get the dare over with. You were all pretty drunk/buzzed at this point so you made up your mind.

Eve knew about your crush on mark but mark clearly was as dense as ever.

“Ok i’ll do it, cmon mark”. You stood up and walked to eves room. You were pretty shocked to see mark following close behind. “Oh wow you’re actually coming”.

“Oh well I mean why wouldn’t I?”. You laughed softly in response and nodded your head as you both entered the dim lit room. You noticed mark closed the door and locked.

“Timer starts now!” Eve shouted excitedly on the other side. “Sorry i said yes because i didn’t want to drink anymore plus i don’t really know how to play this game”. You slurred out and the nerves were slowly creeping in.

“We can just sit around, do nothing or talk”.

“Oh why would we do that?” he lifted an eyebrow tilting his head to the side. Your breath got caught in your throat as he let out a husky laugh.

“What do you mean?”. “I mean why would we do that?”Mark took a few steps closer towards you until he was right in front of you.

“You just said..you don’t really get the game so the least i could do is teach you how to play”. You swore his voice dropped a few and his eyes darkened for a second but you convinced yourself your mind was playing games with you.

“6 minutes left!”. Eve shouted through the door.

“Ok teach me, i probably won’t even like it”. You said as you rolled your eyes at eve yelling. “Ohh trust me you’ll like it”. As mark said that he pushed you softly up against the wall behind you and he pressed up against you.

“M-mark what are you-

“Shhhh i’ll give it to you step by step okay?”.

You blushed and your face grew hot as marks hands roamed your body. You moaned softly while he connected his soft lips to your sweet spot on your neck. “Mhm”. mark mumbled while leaving a huge hickey on your neck.

Mark detached his swollen lips from your neck and smashed his lips into yours. Marks lips were really softer than you expected and they felt amazing on yours like they belonged there.

You moaned softly into the kiss completely melting into him. His hands found its way to cup your plump soft chest and he massaged your sensitive buds. You wrapped your hands around marks neck while his hands cupped your round ass he secretly loved so much.

His fingers ghosted around your heated area clenching around nothing just begging to be touched. He was teasing you and you wouldn’t admit it but you secretly loved it

“Mark please”. you groaned out. You were basically dripping at the sight of him. Mark knew well of the affect he had on you. He was also well aware like you liked him and thanks to eve he had you exactly where he wanted you.

He dreamt of seeing this side of you for so long. The soft noises you made whenever his fingers grazed you precious areas. You on the other hand tried to avoid mark as much as possible..the tension was unbearable but now you had no where to run.

-Mark are you out like his life depended on it. He knew what to do and how to pleasure you and god it felt amazing.

-“I want you to come on my face” he would 100% say things like that and give you lots of praise.

-He fingered you while eating you out. Due to his heightened abilities he could smell your delicious scent and here you heartbeat race while you came on his mouth.

-He had to relieve himself while eating you out. It was like he was going to burst in his pants. He loved the sweet taste he’d be lying it he said it didn’t make him hornier.

-Mark is def a freak on the low. He threw you on the mattress in the dim lit room. You drank in his beautifully toned muscles. His body was always eye candy and his face too of course.

-Mark would slip his tip in slowly but to tease you a little to get you worked up. He is def big on foreplay. When he’d thrust his dick all the way in filling you to the brim he couldn’t help but notice the slight belly bulge. Yea he had a size kink for sure.

a/n: Imk if you guys want a pt. 3 of mark grayson headcannons. this one is a little sloppy and short but i’m tryingg🤛🏽

[atimelessheaven]

Can you please do a fic where Paige and azzi have a teen daughter

LETTER TO MOM

a pazzi series.

hey guysss! sorry ive been lacking on writing recently:/ finals, and life in general are kicking my ass. but here is this! i’ve decided to turn this request into a little series. as of now im not sure if it will be 2 or 3 parts… maybe more? idk. we will see!

fluff ◡̈

warning: mixed pov’s, probably some grammar errors (please ignore them!), and a mediocre plot. that’s all i think! let me know if i missed any.

enjoy!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

backstory: iris was born in 2027. the year of this story is 2041- making iris 14, paige 37, azzi 36. they have been in the league for 16, and 15 years. paige is still on the wings, azzi plays for the valkyries.

iris pov:

today has been tough.

i woke up late. i slipped in the shower. leaving my ankle all swollen, it hurts to move it. i made a bad grade on my science test, and one of my coaches yelled at me for being “lazy” i was in pain, and i just felt exhausted.

i am exhausted.

i feel like i can’t move.

it feels like i can’t even breath without someone getting mad at me.

life has just been hard.

to top it off i miss my mom.

i could never, and would never admit how much it really effects me. she’d feel bad, and i don’t want to put that burden on her.

since mom, and mama have jobs on two different sides of the country they decided it would be best if i stayed with mama during season, in san francisco.

it’s the longest five months of my life.

sure i see mom every now and then during the season, but it’s just not the same.

sometimes i just want to give her a hug.

have her hold me when i’m sad.

come home from school and tell her all about my day, every little detail.

or when i have something really exciting to tell her, i can’t see her live reaction unless it’s facetime.

that is not the same. not even close.

it’s all just caught up to me. right about now i just want my mom to hold me.

since that’s not possible right now, i’ve resorted to the next best thing-

crying myself to sleep wearing moms hoodie that smells like her, holding my build a bear that has her voice in it.

sure it might seem dramatic, she hasn’t died or anything, but if you were in my shoes, you’d understand.

azzi pov:

iris has been home from school for three hours now, and she’s been awfully quiet.

i mean the girl hasn’t even came into the kitchen to get a snack.

something is up with my kid.

that child is ravenous after school, i need to find out what’s wrong a-s-a-p as possible (hehehehe)

i walk to her room and knock, getting no response.

typically i’d just leave her alone but i just feel off, she’s acting off. so i go in.

when i walk in i immediately just freeze mid stride into her room to access the scene in front of me.

my sweet iris girl asleep wearing her moms hoodie, holding her comfort bear with my wife’s voice inside, a wet pillow and tear stained cheeks.

welp.. my mama heart just shattered.

i walked over and gave her a forehead kiss, taking a picture to send my wife. then left her room.

it’s about 9:00 for paige, but she still responds to the picture i sent her relatively fast considering i know she’s tired after a long day of training and would be going to sleep very soon.

from paige- “well i am now officially going to join her in the crying myself to sleep club. i miss my girls. so sad my sweet baby is struggling with me being away. i feel awful.”

right as i go to reply i hear iris headed into the kitchen where i am, so i quickly respond with a “we miss you too.”

“hi babe, how was school today?” i say as i catch iris having to physically hold her up while she completely melted into me.

“i don’t wanna talk about it.” iris mumbles, voice shakey.

“that’s okay, i’m here when you’re ready. you’ll never be forced to talk when you don’t wanna, but i do need you to recognize mom, and i are always here to listen when you’re ready, okay?”

“i know, i just..” iris began but decided against it, not wanting to be a burden.

“you just what?” azzi said encouraging her to finish her statement.

“i don’t want to be the bitchy teen who complains and makes life difficult when i’m so privileged. i mean i know you and mom have demanding jobs, and that it provides so many cool opportunities, but it’s also really hard sometimes. it’s hard having to travel around to a ton of places back to back, missing school, missing friends, missing the normalcy of a regular quiet life. on the flip side when im left behind with friends while yall go to games i feel lonely, not because i don’t like hanging out with my friends but because i miss my parents. you guys are my comfort people, i couldn’t do it without you. having mom be so far away for so long really takes a toll on me. and i promise you are enough and im not meaning you aren’t, but i just miss mom. i thought it would get easier as i got older having to be away from her, but if anything i think it’s gotten harder. i need my mom. i miss my mom. oh and also my day was just awful in general, and i was thinking about all of that and so i just starting spiraling.” iris says pretty quickly, tears showing in her eyes once again. azzi can tell this has been eating at her for a while.

“okay so how about we go get ready for bed, you can lay with me and we can finish this conversation alright?” azzi says pulling away from iris making her stand on her own.

“okay, but can we not tell mom?” iris asks quietly as they start walking towards azzi’s room.

azzi froze. “well uhm i might have taken a picture of you asleep earlier so she already knows sorta what’s going through your head. if you don’t want to explain it to her i’m not going to force you, but i think she’d like to know what’s going on completely if you’re willing to let her in on it. can i ask why you don’t want to tell her?”

“well i love mom, but i know how she is. you do too. she’s going to feel guilty when it’s not even her fault and i don’t wanna stress her out. iris says looking at azzi

“you make a compelling case, but i want to offer my counter argument. as much as that is true, i think she would feel worse if you didn’t tell her what was bothering you, and she found out it was for her sake. that would make her feel more terrible. also we both know she’s going to ask you about that picture i sent, you can’t lie then. she reads you too well. you aren’t slick enough for that.” azzi says laughing thinking of all the times her daughter has given herself away with her terrible lying skills. let’s just say she shouldn’t play poker, or ever commit a crime.

she laughs along with her mom, “you’re right, i should tell her. i just don’t know how i should. i don’t want her to see me cry, or worse she cries. i’d feel so bad if mom cried over this. mama what do i do?” iris says suddenly panicking at the thought of making her mom cry.

“okay calm down, you don’t have to explain it directly to her, you could write her a letter like you used to do as a kid, i think that would cheer her up. very sentimental, and nostalgic. perfect. she’ll love it, and you don’t have to show any emotions you don’t want to, just write what you want.”

“wait that’s a great idea. i can be like so vulnerable, and she’ll never have to see me cry, and i won’t have to see her initial reaction.” iris says feeling so confident in this idea.

“okay okay, now let’s for real get ready for bed, go lay in my room and watch a movie. how does that sound?” azzi says as she starts walking to her room grabbing iris’ hand to take her along with her.

*about ten minutes later they’re both snuggled up in bed watching tangled*

“oh iris look, paige is facetiming us!” azzi says excitedly as she answers the call, while pausing the movie.

“hi my babies! i miss you guys so much!” paige immediately says as the call connects. “omg iris i saw the cutest dog earlier and forgot to send you the picture i took, i just knew you’d love it.” is how paige started their nightly catch up of their day conversation.

“awww i wanna see the puppy, i wish i could’ve been there to see it in person.” iris replies, lighting up at the idea of a cute puppy. “mom can i get a puppy?”

“absolutely not. iris that would be a disaster. poor thing would either have to travel a lot, or stay behind with a pet sitter. not plausible sadly at the moment. maybe in the future! we can add it to our family bucket list!” paige says letting iris down as gently as possible, but trying to cheer her up in the moment.

“ugh. that’s so unfair, i would take it on walks and everything.” iris says grumbling. azzi just rolls her eyes staying out of the conversation.

“so what were you two up to before i called?” paige says curiously.

“TANGLED!” azzi, and iris respond at the same time.

“i should’ve known, you guys literally don’t know of any other movies.” paige says laughing a little at their excitement

“that’s so not true, we also watch zootopia.” iris responds in a matter of fact tone, like paige had just offended her with the movie comment. she’s very well versed in her disney movies.

“and hamilton.” azzi says agreeing with iris.

“okay, okay i get it. now i say you guys start it over, so we can press play at the same time and watch together!” paige suggests

*approximately 47 minutes into the movie iris was out cold.*

“paige, look.” azzi said getting her attention, turning the phone to show iris sound asleep on her shoulder.

“aww our little baby isn’t so little anymore is she?” paige says smiling at the sight of her peaceful daughter.

“i know. it’s crazy to think that just ten years ago all she cared about was if she could eat candy for breakfast, and wear her princess dresses in public, now she’s worried about our feelings, and feels like she’s carrying the world on her shoulders. i just wish i could save her from everything, especially her own mind sometimes.” azzi whispered to paige, while lovingly looking down at iris, gently rubbing her back.

“i love her just how she is, but i know she’s way too caring for this world. she has so much empathy. i don’t ever want it to hurt her. i just want to protect her from everything. she’s my baby.” paige says agreeing with azzi. “what happened earlier today? why was our baby so sad?” paige asks

“it has to do with her caring too much about our feelings over her own. she didn’t want me to tell you, but i can say you’ll find out very soon.” azzi says.

very soon.

[scentofhydrangea]

warnings a bit of smut, breeding, he calls reader a slut, otherwise just fluff

thinking sooooo hard about a big italian wedding with luigi omg

i feel like he’s not the type to initially want a big wedding but then the more you two discuss it he starts getting a little restless with the planning

i think also he’d be a super groomzilla when you’re like two weeks away from the date… he’s worried more about preparations than you are 😭 ‘baby it’s okay, we’ll have everything taken care of!’

his parents and grandparents will likely contribute to a majority of the wedding, even if you two refuse… but this gives the selfish part of you lots more room for spending hehehehe

especially if his grandparents like you a lot, oh my gosh you’d better know that they’d give you a fat check or stack of money as your wedding gift 🫣 ‘benvenuto in famiglia!’ and you’re just burning with excitement omgomg

also he spends so much time on his vows :( he’s nearly bringing you to tears and his mother just cannot keep herself together … of course your maid of honor is on the brink of tears too cuz she has to give her best friend away

we know luigi has an incredible sense of humor as well, and i saw something on pinterest that said they wanted their wedding/reception to be like a scene from the office, and i’m certain that if he was into shows like that then you’d have a room where people go in and gossip or talk to the ‘viewers’ (you two) and there’d be lots of looking at the camera/breaking the fourth wall or zooming in on people like his best man side eyeing the camera LMFAOOO

after the wedding, he waits a few days before you go on your honeymoon because he wants nothing more than to slut you out and be able to call you his wife that night ;)

“my pretty wife, look at you, baby. doing so good for your husband, aren’t you?” the way he speaks to you is like a sin, as if you’re doing something you aren’t supposed to. you’re just so overwhelmed with all these new phrases that you can’t do anything but babble ‘mhm’ and ‘fuck!’

“you gonna let me cum inside? hmmm? gonna let me breed my wife?” he huskily asks, no longer letting you ride him at your own pace. he’s holding your hips as still as he can, eagerly thrusting his thick cock deep into you. you’re both sweating and moaning into each others ears, and he really doesn’t care if you ever answer him.

the moment your walls spasm around him (for the fourth time), he loses all sense and his hot cum comes in ropes and he’s stuffing you full and whispering in your ear :’) “good fucking girl” and “what a good slut my wife is” omg i’m ill

he wastes no time in convincing you to start the family early :3 we know italian people love their big families! (his mother is also pushing the fuck out of you asking ‘when am i gonna get grandkids?’ 😬)

either way, he’s absolutely the best husband and father of your child(ren) you could possibly ask for 🩷🩷

[sadhours]

Steve fucks you in his scoops ahoy costume please and thanks <3

heheheh gigi u know me so well... please request a part 2

PART TWO

cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, dry humping

he just looks so good in the uniform. you've been working across from scoops ahoy! for an entire month. you’re not sure how much longer you can handle this. it’s actually annoying. as he sweeps up the lobby, your eyes are drawn to his ass. they look incredible in those dumb little shorts. his knee high socks sinking lower as the day wears on. potentially worse, he matches his shoes to the uniform. same shade of blue adidas and it’s cute. your coworkers all tease you for your crush on Harrington. they even tell you he’s desperate right now; hitting on every girl that walks into the ice cream store. perfect time to shoot your shot.

but you’re shy as can be. there’s no way in hell steve harrington will hit on you if you walk into scoops ahoy!, especially not in your silly pizzeria uniform. so you just keep on watching him from afar.

the worst thing ever happens, though. a night where you have to close alone and apparently, so does steve. as you’re both awkwardly walking to the doors, he talks to you and boy, what a task it is to hold in your excitement.

“this mall is slowly draining me of my will to live,” he comments, grimacing as you make eye contact.

“ha,” it’s a fake laugh, why you’re fake laughing at him you don’t know but it’s what comes out, “yeah, me too.”

“see ya,” he says and it’s even more awkward when you notice his Beamer is parked right next to your car.

“bye,” you lamely reply as you continue walking next to him. steve chuckles as he keeps walking.

—

your coworkers convinced you to walk across the food court to offer robin and steve a trade. a couple of ice creams for a small pizza and some fries. and you’re relieved when robin’s manning the counter. but she purses her lips and calls for steve, he opens the back window and looks at you.

“yeah?” he asks, hair flopping down on his forehead and he’s so fucking adorable, you have to hold back the giggle forming in your throat.

“they wanna trade ice cream for pizza,” robin tells him, looks like she’s not entirely convinced.

steve’s eyes light up and his lips curl into a smile, “oh, i’m starving, yes!”

robin rolls her eyes, “didn’t you just eat like five bananas?”

“six,” he furrows his brows, “and i’m a growing boy, leave me alone.”

steve looks to you then, “yes, deal.”

he closes the window and comes from the back door, “what do you guys want?”

you read off the note your coworkers wrote and wait for the pair of them to fill it.

—

as you’re leaving, you walk over to scoops so you can tell them thank you but steve is alone. he’s counting the drawer but he’s left the gate open. so you walk inside, feeling bold. you stand in front of the counter and smile at him, waiting for him to finish counting pennies. once he is, he looks up at you and smiles.

“hi,” he purrs and the tone of his voice makes you shiver and you have to squeeze your thighs together.

“i just wanted to say thanks for trading, earlier.”

“no problem,” he pushes his hair back, “that pizza was awesome, thank you.”

“of course,” you flush, knowing you made it with love just for steve. “robin leave already?”

“yeah, she bikes home so i usually let her leave early,” he shrugs, “you close alone?”

“no, but we were slow, so it was quick getting out of there,” you reply, feeling bold so you ask, “do you need any help?”

“for free? no, don’t worry about it,” he grins and you love his smile so much. you don’t wanna leave.

“no, really, i don’t mind,” you say, “i can do some grunt work to make your close easier.”

steve chuckles and nods, “if you insist,” he offers you a rag, “you can wipe down tables.”

you take it with a smile and nod, turning on your heels and making quick with wiping down the tables. you’re focused on a stubborn stain on a table when you feel steve behind you. before you can turn he places a hand on your hip and gets his lips close to your ear, “am i outta line or is there something here?”

you melt, gripping the table so you don’t turn into a puddle. a loss for words, you just gasp and tilt your head back.

“am i outta line?” steve repeats, determined on a reply.

“no,” you insist, shaking your head and steve snakes his arm around your waist, pulls your back flush against his front and smiles against your ear.

“oh, thank god,” he purrs, then kisses your neck, “hoped i wasn’t going crazy.”

“how did you know?” you ask, releasing your grip on the table as you turn towards him.

steve’s face is flushed, like he was nervous and it makes you feel special. he looks incredibly handsome and you grip onto his biceps as you gaze into his beautiful brown eyes.

“the way you look at me,” he mumbles back, eyes darting from your lips to your eyes.

“how do i look at you?” you ask in the short distance between your faces.

steve’s lips quirk up as he replies, “like you didn’t want ice cream, like you wanted me.”

you flush all shades of red, embarrassed you couldn’t hide your crush. it seems to be a good thing so you tell him, “i do— want you.”

steve closes the gap between you, pressing your ass against the table as he kisses you heatedly. his hands grip your hips as he sucks your top lip between his. you have to wrap your arms around his neck so you don’t fall down to the floor, feeling wonderfully lightheaded as steve kisses you stupid. he lifts you up and rests you on the table, moving his hand to grope your breast through the dress you have to wear for work. you hook your ankles around the back of his calves as you kiss him back with just as much fervor as he’s giving you.

it’s unbelievable, kissing steve like this in the lobby of scoops ahoy! there’s no way your coworkers are gonna believe you. steve doesn’t kiss with a lot of tongue, just little teases of it dragging against your lower lip before he kisses your top lip bruisingly. he grabs your face while he does it. you whine against him, knotting your fingers in his luscious locks. they’re so soft, you get lost in them. moaning softly into the kiss as you gently tug on the tendrils on the back of his neck and steve groans against you.

“you keep doing that, we’re gonna have to do more than kissing,” he mumbles against your lips.

god… you’d let steve take your virginity right here on this table but something tells you that you have to relay that information, “i-i’m a virgin.” you tell him in a whisper and he groans as he rolls his hips against you.

“i can’t take your virginity here,” he laughs softly, “but we can do something else…”

the promise of him taking your virginity is overwhelming and excited. you’d been fantasizing about it for months. you look at him expectantly as he pulls away, you glance down to see him straining in his scoops ahoy! uniform and you giggle.

“c’mere,” he helps you off the table and onto the booth. “lay down.”

you obey and bite your lip, anticipating Steve’s next move. he situates his body on top of yours in the booth, suddenly you can feel his erection against your thigh and he wiggles until you can feel it against your core. you gasp and he kisses you hard, grabbing the hem of your dress and hiking it up over your waist. steve then licks into your mouth and you moan, wrapping your legs around his waist as he grinds down against you. it’s so… wonderful, his clothed hard on rubbing against your core through your underwear. you feel it all over, soaking through your panties and probably his shorts. steve pants through the kissing, rutting his hips against yours in a way that makes your head swim. the drag of his erection against your clit is something fucking special and it makes you jerk up against him, wanting more.

steve keeps kissing you, grinding down against you even faster. tingles run up your thighs straight to your core and you can’t help but release these begging little whines against his lips. steve bites your lip then, tugging it between his teeth as his hands make quick work to pull the top of your dress down, exposing your breasts, his hand grabs hold of your tit and squeezes as he continues winding his crotch down against yours. once his fingertips you with your nipple, you let out a loud, guttural moan and steve is swallowing it down with a sloppy kiss. you find your hands in his hair again, pulling and tugging as he whimpers into the kiss and works his hips even harder.

the pair of you are writhing against each other desperately, panting and moaning against tongues and lips and that coil that’s been winding in your stomach snaps. blissful release soaring through you with a cry of Steve’s name as he pinches your nipple.

“that’s it,” he purrs against your slack jawed mouth, “cum for me, baby. that’s a good girl.”

you cling onto him desperately and steve’s hips stutter before stopping and he makes a pretty whimper and whine against your lips.

once he pulls away, his shorts are very clearly ruined and your embarrassed but also incredibly turned on by the evidence of a good time.

“when can we do more?” you ask, blinking hopefully at him.

steve laughs softly and scratches the back of his neck, “well… my house is empty… if you wanna come over?”

“yes, I would love to,” you giggle as you sit up.

[razorblade180]

Future lifestyle

Winter:*in a black cocktail dress* Weiss, I’ll probably be out until tomorrow. I’m having dinner with Qrow.

Weiss:He invited you out at this hour? You do know his intentions, right? He’s obviously trying to make a move.

Winter:Well I didn’t shave my legs for him to only talk about his feelings.

Weiss:….

Winter:Goodnight! Lock the door for me. Feel free to invite Jaune over if you want. Just as long as I come back to a nice smelling apartment.

Weiss:I HAVE MORE CLASS THAN YOU!

Winter:Of course you do. I left our house quicker than you. *closes door*

Weiss:….*vigorously typing*

Jaune:H-Hello?

Weiss:Winter is gone for the night. So…if you want to come over and kill my boredom, that would be nice.

Jaune:Oh! Umm, alright. Give me like half an hour.

Weiss:Kay.

Jaune:Muah!

Weiss:*red…You’re so ridiculous. I’ll see you soon. *hangs up* Now then-

Winter:*opens door*FYI the number is eight. That’s how many razorblades you have; and I will count them when I return.

Weiss:You’re a monster.

Winter:And you’re just like me. The only difference is I have huntsmen and driver’s license. Goodnight for real. I’m serious about the fragrance situation.*closes door*

Weiss:*typing*

Ruby:Who’s body are we hiding?

Weiss:Stop answering calls like that. So umm, you just lived with an older under the same roof for over two decades like it was easy? That’s pretty impressive. I underestimated you.

Ruby:Well in all fairness, I punched her in the face a lot. Affectionately of course.

Weiss:Yeah I think I’m getting there. Living with a sibling is rough.

Ruby:You’re telling me. After all I’m living with yours. Heheheh-

Weiss:*hangs up*

Bzzz bzzzz

Weiss:…*answers* Yes Whitley?

Ruby:Hehehehe

Weiss:Shut up! I’m blocking you both for the night.

Whitley:You don’t call me anyways.

Weiss:..Let’s not fight. I’ll call you tomorrow and we can have lunch with Winter.

Whitley:Mmhmm.

Weiss:Whitley please! I feel bad! I promise! Life’s been busy.

Ruby:Accept so I can’t eat the leftovers.

Weiss:What are you, a raccoon!?

Whitley:I’ll see ya tomorrow. Night.

Ruby:Byyyyyeeee! *hangs up*

Weiss:Sigh, she’s gonna be my sister-in- law one day.

…….

Weiss:Damnit, Yang is gonna be my sister-in-law one day!

[the-kr8tor]

So, you get a new request so. New news reporter R on an intership x actor hobie. Its where he is on the red carpet and r is trying to get a conversation with one of them but keeps getting pushed around and hobie takes notice and then you can choose what else to do. Just thought an idea for a starting point could help ya you know. You have free creative control :DDD

Hehehehe actor! Hobie hehehehe 😍 thank you for requesting muah 😘❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, actor! Hobie, actor au, brief mention of an injury, interviewer! R, fluff

Navigation

Your head swims with anxiety as you wait beside the red carpet. Camera flashes flicker in and out, the lights are brighter than the sun, making you think that it's daytime when it's already close to ten pm. Even the high pitched screams are ringing in your head.

When you first got there earlier than usual to capture some extra snapshots of the event and to get a place near the bannister separating the media and the stars, it was all exciting. Now you can't wait to go home and have a cup of warm tea and lay in bed. But alas, being new at your swanky magazine job means that you have to do all the grunt work. You're not the one going one on one with celebrities, or even getting a full segment with them on the carpet like a famous coworker of yours. No, you're on the side, pining for even a moment of the celebrity's attention while you're dodging the paparazzi’s huge camera lenses, and trying not to get your feet stomped on by other media competitors. You swear you're about to conk someone's head with your microphone when their shoulder bumps into you too harshly.

Sighing, your camera man, James, and a fellow new hire, looks at you like he's about to run away from the scene and go to the nearest chicken shop instead.

A cherry red motorcycle suddenly appears, parking near the entrance of the event. Its rider is wearing a sleek helmet dotted with stickers and spray paint. The crowd goes wild at the mere sight of him, already knowing who's getting off the famous bike.

“You better get ready.” James nudges you as he readies his camera. “All we had was an interview with a stunt double and the main girl's best friend.”

You clutch your mic tighter. “Trust me, I'm ready. Hobie Brown isn't slipping off my grasp—!” The rowdy crowd pushes and rams towards you, almost crushing you between James and the bannister. “Shit, calm down!” The screams get louder as Hobie takes off his riding gloves, and then his helmet, revealing his handsome face. You swear you saw him grimace at the frantic crowd for a millisecond.

“Hold on! Fuck!” James tries to shield you from behind as more and more paparazzi clamor to get a picture of him. “He's not all that!” He exclaims, lifting up the very expensive camera in his hands. “You okay?”

You've managed to wiggle your hand in-between your stomach and the hard railings. A desperate attempt to protect yourself from the onslaught of screaming fans and paparazzi.

“I'm—” you wince, getting pushed more towards the metal. “Fucking stop! Where's security!?” The pushing gets too rough, and the railings in front of you shakes under the weight, tethering close to falling over.

“Oi oi!” Hobie bolts towards the carpet, stopping in front of a distressed you, pointing at the crowd. “Stop that!” When no one makes a move to stop pushing, he pushes the crowd back by himself. Finally prompting the security’s attention for some crowd control. “You're bloody crushin' her!” Is he talking about you? You're sure he's talking about you.

You look at him through your lashes, seeing him up close and personal. Now you get why some people faint after meeting him in person. The spotlights shine behind him, his honeyed eyes are full of determination as he helps push people away from you without a single worry for his red carpet outfit.

Finally, after what seems like hours, the pressure behind you diminishes and you can finally breathe. James pats your shoulder, panting in place. You nod thanks to him as you catch your breath.

“You alright, love?” Your more famous coworkers weren't joking when they said that their legs turned to jelly when they first heard his voice. His palm rests gently on your bicep, eyes soft and concerned. “You want some water?”

You exhale, swallowing down your nervous laughter. “Y-Yeah, please.”

“I'll get you some—” he turns and there's already someone with a walkie talkie handing him a bottle of water. “Thanks,” he nods at them before turning back towards you and opening the bottle for you. “Perks of bein’ famous. Here.”

You take it gladly, his warm fingers brushing against your own. “Thank you, Hobie— Mr. Brown.”

“Do I look like a Mr. Brown, love?” He gestures towards himself, pointing out his very punk red carpet outfit complete with his signature leather and spikes. It's definitely something you don't see everyday on the red carpet, especially the fishnets.

You almost choke on your water, coughing and covering your mouth. “S–Sorry, Hobie.” Coughing some more, Hobie pats your back with a lopsided smile.

His eyes turn sharp suddenly at the man beside you, glaring at the stranger. “Get your bloody foot off of her.” He says in between his teeth. You didn't even feel it, but Hobie saw it, immediately pushing the man away before you could unscramble your thoughts.

James films on the side, grinning at the interaction. He's definitely going to get that promotion. Hobie turns to him while you're trying not to cough out your whole lung. His hand is still on you to the disappointment of his obsessed fans.

“You need water too, mate?”

“No thanks, unless you're signing it, Hobie.” James jokes, earning a chuckle from him.

“Just ask, bruv, I'll sign it.” Hobie cranes his neck over to you again, practically seeing stars in your eyes now that you've settled down. “There you go, love, you look stunnin’ when you're not gettin' crushed.”

You giggle nervously, trying not to get lost in his eyes. “Um, can I interview for a second?” You mentally facepalm, you could've said something better, anything, and yet you chose that.

“I fancy a bird who takes the opportunity when it drops on her lap.” Hobie winks at you, at *you. You still can't believe it. The crowd behind you runs wild as if it was directed at them. “Ask away.”

You clear your throat and your thoughts. “Who are you wearing?”

“This ol' thing?” He lifts up the red plaid skirt like he's about to greet the queen. As if he'll do that. “A childhood mate of mine designed it for me. They don't want to be named though, said they're only doin’ it ‘cause I kept askin'” Chuckling, he leans against the railings to stay comfortable under all the scrutinizing eyes.

To your rivals’ dismay, he continues the interview with you and you only even when they're screaming to get his attention.

You smile gently at him, not the kind of polite smile you robotically give. But the kind you're genuine about, something that you give to close friends or family. “You two must be close.”

His eyes sparkle under the light, your question must've been a rare thing for him during these events when people only ask about him and rumours circling around him.

“Yeah, been mates since we were eatin’ glue.”

“You ate glue?” You joke, and he beams at your laugh.

“Who doesn't?” He feels comfortable and carefree around you. Unlike the other interviewers who only ask the same ten questions and make him feel bored out of his mind.

“I didn't.” You giggle, as if you're just joking with an old friend.

“I guess that's why you're smarter than me, the glue didn't reach your brain.” He taps his temple, all the while smiling at you.

“How would you know that I'm smart? You're the one with the masters.”

“I do?” He feigns naivete. “See, you know everythin'.”

Laughing with him feels like the most natural thing in the world. And he feels the same with his eyes crinkling in the corners and hand placed next to you on the bannister. But alas, the conversation had to end with his manager urging him to continue walking down the carpet.

“Wait, hold on, Ned.” Hobie keeps his eyes on you even though his manager is looking more and more irked. “Do you have a one-on-one with the cast later?”

“Uh no, that's not really my job. Not yet anyway.”

“What do you say that I slide you and your cameraman in, hm?” He hopes you'll say yes so he could talk to you more.

You swear your heart jumped out of your chest like in the cartoons. “Yes— absolutely that would be an amazing opportunity, thank you!”

“Nah, thank you, love, you're the only one worth talkin' to in this business.” He points at your microphone. “Good thing too, your mics off by the way.” With a smirk, he leaves, and the camera shutters follow him.

You stare in horror at the mic in your hands. “Fuck.” You whisper, and James tries not to groan loudly.

“At least we got the gig right?”